One by one I count them.

A dozen or more fall to the floor.

Watch him thoroughly; he may decide to save some. Why pick them up? Because we must do the inexplicable to be considered just.

A simple rule is not meant to be broken by complicated conjecture. The art of compassion would make quite an interesting lecture.

I detest the unexplained with unyielding prejudice. All things have a purpose and a time. Its flavor mellows with age like a fine wine.

Oh, how the agony of waiting patiently tortures me. Your sun will shine in due time... in due time...