All Places Shall Be Hell That Are

O, Thou Art Fairer Than The Evening Air Clad In The Beauty Of A Thousand Stars.

You Must Be Proud, Bold, Pleasant, Resolute, And Now And Then Stab, As Occasion Serves.

Religion! O Diabole! Fie, I Am Asham'd, However That I Seem, To Think A Word Of Such Simple Sound, Of Such Great Matter Should Be Made The Ground.

Love Me Little, Love Me Long.

Blood Is The God Of War's Rich Livery.