Something To Remember, That: Cats For Missiles.

And Now, My Poor Old Woman, Why Are You Crying So Bitterly? It Is Autumn. The Leaves Are Falling From The Trees Like Burning Tears- The Wind Howls. Why Must You Mimic Them?

Why Break The Heart That Never Beat From Love?

There Are Times When The Air That Floats Between Mortals Becomes, In Its Stillness And Silence, As Cruel As The Edge Of A Scythe.

He Saw In Happiness The Seeds Of Independence, And In Independence The Seeds Of Revolt.

And There Shall Be A Flame-green Daybreak Soon. And Love Itself Will Cry For Insurrection! For Tomorrow Is Also A Day - And Titus Has Entered His Stronghold.