The Rule Of The Many Is Not

Two Diverse Gates There Are Of Bodiless Dreams, These Of Sawn Ivory, And Those Of Horn. Such Dreams As Issue Where The Ivory Gleams Fly Without Fate, And Turn Our Hopes To Scorn. But Dreams Which Issue Through The Burnished Horn, What Man Soe'er Beholds Them On His Bed, These Work With Virtue And Of Truth Are Born.

Go On With A Spirit That Fears Nothing.

I Can't Even Say The Word 'titmouse' Without Giggling Like A Schoolgirl.

Who Ne'er Knew Salt, Or Heard The Billows Roar.

The Only Monster Here Is The Gambling Monster That Has Enslaved Your Mother, And I Call Him Gamblor!