He who is too well off is always longing for something new.

My mother, she killed me, My father, he ate me, My sister Marlene, Gathered all my bones, Tied them in a silken scarf, Laid them beneath the juniper tree, Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.

Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony.

The true poet, is like a man who's happy anywhere, in endless measure, if he's allowed to look at leaves and grass, to see the sun rise and set.

Take me as godfather." The man asked, "Who art thou?" "I am Death, and I make all equal." Then said the man, "Thou art the right one, thou takest the rich as well as the poor, without distinction; thou shalt be godfather." Death answered, "I will make thy child rich and famous, for he who has me for a friend can lack nothing.

Then up he got with a light heart, free from all his troubles, and walked on till he reached his mother's house, and told her how very easy the road to good luck was.

The Lord God had created all animals, and had chosen out the wolf to be his dog.