Do Not Bandy Words With Your Father,

A Slave Is But Half A Man.

Weak Mortals, Chained To The Earth, Creatures Of Clay As Frail As The Foliage Of The Woods, You Unfortunate Race, Whose Life Is But Darkness, As Unreal As A Shadow, The Illusion Of A Dream.

An Actor Should Refine Public Taste.

Ye Children Of Man! Whose Life Is A Span, Protracted With Sorrow From Day To Day, Naked And Featherless, Feeble And Querulous, Sickly, Calamitous Creatures Of Clay!

An Ancient Tradition Declares That Every Idiot Blunder We Pass Into Law Will Sooner Or Later Redound To Athens' Profit.