It Is Not Right To Glory In

I Detest The Man Who Hides On Thing In The Depths Of His Heart And Speaks Forth Another.

...if Fifty Bands Of Men Surrounded Us/ And Every Sword Sang For Your Blood,/ You Could Make Off Still With Their Cows And Sheep.

Being Eaten By A Crocodile Is Just Like Going To Sleep...in A Giant Blender.

The God Of War Will See Fair Play-he's Often Slain That Wants To Slay!

[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.