Hang 'em first, try 'em later.
Spring with its wavin' green grass and heaps of sweet-smellin' flowers on every hill and in every dale.
And finally Winter, with its bitin', and whinin' wind, and all the land will be mantled with snow.
I find this corpse guilty of carrying a concealed weapon and I fine it $40.
You can't tell how good a man or a watermelon is 'til they get thumped.
Time will pass and seasons will come and go.