Ah how shameless – the way these mortals blame the gods. From us alone they say come all their miseries yes but they themselves with their own reckless ways compound their pains beyond their proper share.
Who love too much, hate in the like extreme.
By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, and what to those we give, to Jove is lent.
A glorious death is his, who for his country falls.
It's about time trees were good for something, instead of just standing there like jerks!
Nobody gets into heaven without a glowstick.