And empty words are evil.
Nobody gets into heaven without a glowstick.
Restrain yourself... and gloat in silence. I'll have no jubilation here. It is an impious thing to exult over the slain.
Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy.
By hook or by crook this peril too shall be something that we remember
For rarely are sons similar to their fathers: most are worse, and a few are better than their fathers.