Men are born, and then they're formed.
I'm many things, most of 'em bad. But a man of political principles? No.
Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be surely full of variety; old crotchets and most sweet closes. It shall be humorous, grave, fantastic, amorous, melancholy, sprightly, one in all, and all in one.
Every man has a right to change, a chance of forgiveness.
We die alone, but we live among men.
Some trees flourish, others die. Some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. Some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. Ain't nothing fair. You know that.