A Shamefaced Man Makes A Bad Beggar.

The Blade Itself Incites To Deeds Of Violence.

Like The Generations Of Leaves, The Lives Of Mortal Men. Now The Wind Scatters The Old Leaves Across The Earth, Now The Living Timber Bursts With The New Buds And Spring Comes Round Again. And So With Men: As One Generation Comes To Life, Another Dies Away.

Death Submits To No One.

I Have No Interest At All In Food And Drink, But Only In Slaughter And Blood And The Agonized Groans Of Mangled Men

From His Tongue Flowed Speech Sweeter Than Honey.