Always Speak Politely To An Enraged Dragon.

In Our Memories, There Is A Graveyard Where We Bury Our Dead. They All Lie There Together, The Loved Ones And The Ones We Hated, Friends And Foes And Kin, With No Distinction Among Them. We Have To Mourn Every One Of Them, Because Our Memories Have Made Them As Much A Part Of Us As Our Bones Or Our Skin. If We Don't, We've No Right To Remember Anything At All.

It's Just That No One Wants To Be The One Being Rescued, We All Want To Do The Rescuing.

I Guess There's Just A Time For Doing Dumb Things.

There Is No Excuse For Bad Manners, Except Fast Reflexes.

Plan. Yes. Good Idea. I Should Come Up With A Plan.