Oh my dear God - are you one of those single tear people?
Music is essentially twelve notes between any octave. Twelve notes and the octave repeats. It's the same story told over and over.
We've passed on all we know. A thousand generations live in you now. But this is your fight.
...and in our darkest hour, before my final rhyme, she will come back home to wonderland, and turn back the hands of time.
Will you have enough clichés to get you through the visit?
Let me tell you something. Me and you. One on one. No one else around. I will beat your ass like a Cherokee drum.
We're causing our own extinction.
You can never do anything by half. Do you understand that?
Here is the thing about power. What good is power, if you got nobody to share it with?
The mind is a fragile thing. Takes only the slightest tap to tip it in the wrong direction.