You've got to think of the fine times you had with your mate, not the moment of his perishin'. Every tear you shed now only wets his windin' sheet and disturbs his rest
Friendship, Death
And if that is the Foremast, what do you think that sail might be called, Mr. Wheeler?""The Foresail?""Very good, Mr. Wheeler, and the next one up would be called..."..."The Next Sail, Sir?""Alas, no, Mr. Wheeler.
Funny
I'm really a peaceful sort of coward.
Peace