Durch die Eisenbahn wird Raum getötet, und es bleibt nur noch die Zeit übrig. - Heinrich Heine

The arrow belongs not to the archer when it has once left the bow; the word no longer belongs to the speaker when it has once passed his lips.

Bien sûr, il me pardonnera; c'est son métier. [Of course he [God] will forgive me; that's his job.]

When the leeches have sucked enough blood, one simply has to sprinkle some salt on their backs and they fall off – But you, my friend, how can I get rid of you?
Your despairing cousin