There Will Be Killing Till The Score

There Is No Fouler Fiend Than A Woman When Her Mind Is Bent To Evil.

Goddess-nurse Of The Young, Give Ear To My Prayer, And Grant That This Woman May Reject The Love-embraces Of Youth And Dote On Grey-haired Old Men Whose Powers Are Dulled, But Whose Hearts Still Desire.

The Journey Is Its Own Reward.

Ah, Beer, My One Weakness. My Achille's Heel, If You Will.

Tell Me, O Muse, Of That Ingenious Hero Who Travelled Far And Wide After He Had Sacked The Famous Town Of Troy.