It Is Not Possible To Fight Beyond

Insignificant Mortals, Who Are As Leaves Are, And Now Flourish And Grow Warm With Life, And Feed On What The Ground Gives, But Then Again Fade Away And Are Dead.

Ah How Shameless – The Way These Mortals Blame The Gods. From Us Alone They Say Come All Their Miseries Yes But They Themselves With Their Own Reckless Ways Compound Their Pains Beyond Their Proper Share.

Let Him Submit To Me! Only The God Of Death Is So Relentless, Death Submits To No One—so Mortals Hate Him Most Of All The Gods. Let Him Bow Down To Me! I Am The Greater King, I Am The Elder-born, I Claim—the Greater Man.

I'm A People Person...who Drinks.

The Glorious Gifts Of The Gods Are Not To Be Cast Aside.