I know what I deserve, and you know it, too.

Tell me what a brute and fool I am; it will do me good.

Punch me a solid jolt in the ribs, like the one you gave me not long ago." "Qui sine peccato est, primus lapidem mittat" said the priest.

"Let him who is without sin cast the first stone." He had gone to the hearth and was taking from the embers an earthen saucer, or shallow bowl, in which some fragrant broth simmered and steamed.
"A man who has slept as long as you have, my son, usually has a somewhat delicate appetite.

Now, here is a soup, not especially satisfying to the taste of a gourmet like yourself, but possessing the soothing quality that is good for one just aroused from an unusual nap.
I offer it, my son, propter stomachum tuum, et frequentes tuas infirmitates (on account of thy stomach, and thine often infirmities).
This soup will go to the right spot." While speaking he brought the hot bowl to Farnsworth and set it on the bedcover before him, then fetched a big horn spoon.
The fragrance of pungent roots and herbs, blent with a savory waft of buffalo meat, greeted the Captain's sense, and the anticipation itself cheered his aching throat.