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.

And here I am using my own lungs like a sucker.

The lot of man-to suffer and die.

I am so smart. I am so smart. I am so smart. S-M-R-T ... Uh, I mean S-M-A-R-T.

By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, and what to those we give, to Jove is lent.

Noble and manly music invigorates the spirit, strengthens the wavering man, and incites him to great and worthy deeds.

Just once I'd like someone to call me 'Sir' without adding 'You're making a scene.'