My Programming Language Was Solder.

And, As Always Happens, And Happens Far Too Soon, The Strange And Wonderful Becomes A Memory And A Memory Becomes A Dream. Tomorrow It's Gone.

How Do You Get All Those Coins?" Asked Mort. In Pairs.

I Am Death, Not Taxes. I Turn Up Only Once.

All Holy Piety In Public, And All Peeled Grapes And Self-indulgence In Private.

Nothing But Dust And Fundamentalists.