Tell Me, O Muse, Of Travellers Far

Look, I'm Not Asking You To Like Me, I'm Not Asking You To Put Yourself In A Position Where I Can Touch Your Goodies, I'm Just Asking You To Be Fair.

It Is A Wise Child That Knows His Own Father. [lat., Nondum Enim Quisquam Suum Parentem Ipse Cognosvit.]

Jove Lifts The Golden Balances That Show The Fates Of Mortal Men, And Things Below.

No One Can Hurry Me Down To Hades Before My Time, But If A Man's Hour Is Come, Be He Brave Or Be He Coward, There Is No Escape For Him When He Has Once Been Born.

How Delicate Her Feet Who Shuns The Ground, Stepping A-tiptoe On The Heads Of Men.