Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None

We Few. We Happy Few. We Band Of Brothers, For He Today That Sheds His Blood With Me Shall Be My Brother.

Blood Will Have Blood.

Ideas Are The Very Coinage Of Your Brain.

I Do Oppose My Patience To His Fury, And Am Arm'd To Suffer, With A Quietness Of Spirit, The Very Tyranny And Rage Of His.

A Sad Tale's Best For Winter. I Have One Of Sprites And Goblins.