A generation of men is like a generation of leaves; the wind scatters some leaves upon the ground, while others the burgeoning wood brings forth - and the season of spring comes on. So of men one generation springs forth and another ceases.

Being eaten by a crocodile is just like going to sleep...in a giant blender.

Not at all similar are the race of the immortal gods and the race of men who walk upon the earth.

Hateful to me as are the gates of hell, Is he who, hiding one thing in his heart, Utters another.

It is equally offensive to speed a guest who would like to stay and to detain one who is anxious to leave.

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.

Remember that postcard Grandpa sent us from Florida of that Alligator biting that woman's bottom? That's right, we all thought it was hilarious. But, it turns out we were wrong. That alligator was sexually harassing that woman.