If he hadn't wasted time, he'd be finished by now.

At that grindstone

narrow scrutiny, found some magical books... Hahaar!

Start to strop the razor.

A certain woman cast an upper millstone on Abimelech's head, and broke his skull.

A certain woman cast an upper millstone on Abimelech's head, and broke his skull.

And a certain woman cast a piece of a millstone upon Abimelech's head, and all to brake his skull.

And a certain woman cast a piece of a millstone upon Abimelech's head, and all to brake his skull.

Sharpen your teeth!

There's nothing left for us to do now but kill the hours until your departure.

We've no time to waste. Go on and don't dawdle.

You name your own figure, Mr. Brown.

You took your time.

They tortured the old lady 'till they found out where she kept the stuff.

It has to stand up to the heat and the wear and tear that happens in hospitals in these rural districts.

Iron sharpens iron so a man sharpens his friend's countenance.

Iron sharpens iron so a man sharpens his friend's countenance.

Iron sharpeneth iron so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.

Iron sharpeneth iron so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.

Boy My fuckin' reality.

Many of those divisions and frictions are manifested in religious tones.

It shouldn't be hurried. There must be no fumbling around.

In winter we grind even at night.

By the way, I find Homer Groening's film presented a beautiful alternative to that very claim.

in 1848... a man found something he wasn't even looking for at the bottom of a ditch.

I'm going now to break it up.

On the other side are cyphers. We haven't decyphered them yet.

He was tortured, brutally tortured to death.

Bread flour must be ground so he will not always be threshing it. Although he drives the wheel of his threshing cart over it, his horses don't grind it.

Bread flour must be ground so he will not always be threshing it. Although he drives the wheel of his threshing cart over it, his horses don't grind it.

Bread corn is bruised because he will not ever be threshing it, nor break it with the wheel of his cart, nor bruise it with his horsemen.

Bread corn is bruised because he will not ever be threshing it, nor break it with the wheel of his cart, nor bruise it with his horsemen.

It can break sometimes.

And what I did, I took pieces of glass. And I started to rub them.

The blue mill.

They tortured him.

The miller.

Miller!

Torturing you?

Stop messing about.

Take the millstones, and grind meal remove your veil, strip off the train, uncover the leg, pass through the rivers.

Take the millstones, and grind meal remove your veil, strip off the train, uncover the leg, pass through the rivers.

Take the millstones, and grind meal uncover thy locks, make bare the leg, uncover the thigh, pass over the rivers.

Take the millstones, and grind meal uncover thy locks, make bare the leg, uncover the thigh, pass over the rivers.

But you keep fighting me. I can't be that bad.