Old Age Is Second Childhood.

Let Each Man Exercise The Art He Knows.

Prayers Without Wine Are Perfectly Pointless.

[y]ou [man] Are Fool Enough, It Seems, To Dare To War With [woman=] Me, When For Your Faithful Ally You Might Win Me Easily.

This Is What Extremely Grieves Us, That A Man Who Never Fought Should Contrive Our Fees To Pilfer, On Who For His Native Land Never To This Day Had Oar, Or Lance, Or Blister In His Hand.

The Gods, My Dear Simple Fellow, Are A Mere Expression Coined By Vulgar Superstition. We Frown Upon Such Coinage Here.