You smell very delicious, but I will not bite you.

I don't mean to judge a book by its cover, but that man is all cover and no pages.

You were never burdened with intelligence, but your load seems to be especially light these days.

I have witnessed dar too much, and you have given me too little. Finally, I can see.

Like moons make swell and wane the nescient seas, so too the sky-strewn gods ordain the tidal fates of mortal days. And yet - a notion born in lonely hours - come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will.