All Right, Let's Not Panic. I'll Make

A Boy Without Mischief Is Like A Bowling Ball Without A Liquid Center.

Better To Live Or Die, Once And For All, Than Die By Inches.

[b]ut It Is Only What Happens, When They Die, To All Mortals. The Sinews No Longer Hold The Flesh And The Bones Together, And Once The Spirit Has Let The White Bones, All The Rest Of The Body Is Made Subject To The Fire's Strong Fury, But The Soul Flitters Out Like A Dream And Flies Away.

Boy, Everyone Is Stupid Except Me.

We Are Quick To Flare Up, We Races Of Men On The Earth.