The glowworm shows the matin to be near And ’gins to pale his uneffectual fire. Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me.

His raw-bone cheekes, through penurie and pine / Were shronke into his jawes, as he did never dyne.

My, she was yar...It means, uh...easy to handle, quick to the helm, fast, right. Everything a boat should be, until she develops dry rot.

“I mean, come on, you and me? We're both big guys. He's not. He's a streak of piss, smaller than David, and got to be in his fifties at least.”