The Care Of God For Us Is

To Die With Glory, If One Has To Die At All, Is Still, I Think, Pain For The Dier.

My Hands Are Clean, But My Heart Has Somewhat Of Impurity.

What Greater Pain Could Mortals Have Than This: To See Their Children Dead Before Their Eyes?

Soon All Of You Immortals Will Be As Dead As We Are! Come On Then, What Are You Waiting For? Have You Run Out Of Thunderbolts?

I Hate It In Friends When They Come Too Late To Help.