The Other: The Chitauri grow restless. Loki: Let them gird themselves. I will lead them into glorious battle. The Other: Battle? Against the meager might of Earth? Loki: Glorious, not lengthy. If your force is as formidable as you claim. The Other: Y...
October O love, turn from the changing sea and gaze, Down these grey slopes, upon the year grown old, A-dying 'mid the autumn-scented haze That hangeth o'er the hollow in the wold, Where the wind-bitten ancient elms infold Grey church, long barn, orc...
Must I accept the barren Gift? -learn death, and lose my Mastery? Then let them know whose blood and breath will take the Gift and set them free: whose is the voice and whose the mind to set at naught the well-sung Game- when finned Finality arrives ...
