Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.
I looked up and saw a bunch of military-looking guys in coveralls, holding big, bulky rifles and wearing hooded gas masks with tinted face-plates.
No one gossips about other people's secret virtues.
Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.
What if this weren't a hypothetical question?
There were millions of ways that the world could kill me.
Is love supposed to last throughout all time, or is it like trains changing at random stops. If I loved her, how could I leave her? If I felt that way then, how come I don't feel anything now?