Shall I Crack Any Of Those Old

Evil Events From Evil Causes Spring, And What You Suffer Flows From What You've Done.

High Thoughts Must Have High Language.

Even If You Persuade Me, You Won’t Persuade Me.

No Man Is Really Honest; None Of Us Is Above The Influence Of Gain.

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.