It is always the latest song that an audience applauds the most.
First you don't want me to get the pony, then you want me to take it back. Make up your mind!
Reproach is infinite, and knows no end So voluble a weapon is the tongue; Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail For every man has equal strength to rail.
I would rather be a serf in a poor man's house and be above ground than reign among the dead.
Ah, beer, my one weakness. My Achille's heel, if you will.
...if fifty bands of men surrounded us/ and every sword sang for your blood,/ you could make off still with their cows and sheep.