All Deaths Are Hateful To Miserable Mortals,

Oh, Everything Looks Bad If You Remember It.

I Am So Smart. I Am So Smart. I Am So Smart. S-m-r-t ... Uh, I Mean S-m-a-r-t.

The Gods Give To Mortals Not Everything At The Same Time.

The Roaring Seas And Many A Dark Range Of Mountains Lie Between Us.

And By The Sacred Parchment, I Swear That If I Reveal The Secrets Of The Stonecutters, May My Stomach Become Bloated And My Head Be Plucked Of All But Three Hairs