Frankly, the only good people who I know are dogs.

Only one kind of species of animals bites the hand that feeds them - mankind.

All humans are rogues. Cured only by death.

Humans, left to own misguided devices, scratches the Divine in the self as one would the lice, but remember to lick well all the vices.

Of course I love you. For real. I will sure come and personally meet you myself. Just to make sure you're well. When is your funeral?

So, am I too, like all other humans, just a rogue? Sure! Just a notch less than those rascals wearing godly robes.