Wine Can Of Their Wits The Wise

A Hunter Of Shadows, Himself A Shade.

Ill Fares The State Where Many Masters Rule; Let One Be Lord, One King Supreme.

...if Fifty Bands Of Men Surrounded Us/ And Every Sword Sang For Your Blood,/ You Could Make Off Still With Their Cows And Sheep.

Go On With A Spirit That Fears Nothing.

Sensitive Love Letters Are My Specialty. 'dear Baby, Welcome To Dumpsville. Population: You.'