I see a bly of your father about you.

I have a jest to execute that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill shall rob those men that we have already 'waylaid – yourself and I will not be there. And when they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them – cut this head off from my shoulders.

In a food-driven city like Austin, posting a foodstagram is almost inevitable.

He attacks the notion of a just war and the sacrifice it demands in Sabra youth: We are all pre-dead in those eighty million battles.