Oh, My Tattered Rags Are Caught On

The God Of War Is Impartial: He Hands Out Death To The Man Who Hands Out Death.

...if Fifty Bands Of Men Surrounded Us/ And Every Sword Sang For Your Blood,/ You Could Make Off Still With Their Cows And Sheep.

I Only Hope Those Rumors I Hear About What Goes On In Prison Are Greatly Exaggerated.

Even Were Sleep Is Concerned, Too Much Is A Bad Thing.

We Mortals Hear Only The News, And Know Nothing At All.