He Who Rides The Sea Of The

I Am Not A Theologian Or A Philosopher. I Am A Story Teller.

Towards Midnight The Rain Ceased And The Clouds Drifted Away, So That The Sky Was Scattered Once More With The Incredible Lamps Of Stars.

The Conch Exploded Into A Thousand White Fragments And Ceased To Exist.

We're Not Savages. We're English.

Kill The Pig. Cut Her Throat. Spill Her Blood.