The Fewer Men, The Greater Share Of

A Happy Ending Cannot Come In The Middle Of The Story

The Moon's An Arrant Thief, And Her Pale Fire She Snatches From The Sun.

Trifles Light As Air Are To The Jealous Confirmations Strong As Proofs Of Holy Writ.

Why What A Fool Was I To This Drunken Monster For A God. - Caliban

From This Day Forward Until The End Of The World...we In It Shall Be Remembered...we Band Of Brothers.