From now on walking is my beer and feeling good is my hangover.
I want to be alone with my thought.
The other day, I was so desperate for a beer, I snuck into the football stadium and ate the dirt under the bleachers.
Who love too much, hate in the like extreme.
Blame the guy who doesn't speak Engish.
Thus have the gods spun the thread for wretched mortals: that they live in grief while they themselves are without cares; for two jars stand on the floor of Zeus of the gifts which he gives, one of evils and another of blessings.