Here, Therefore, Huge And Mighty

Pffft, English. Who Needs That? I'm Never Going To England.

One Who Journeying Along A Way He Knows Not, Having Crossed A Place Of Drear Extent, Before Him Sees A River Rushing Swiftly Toward The Deep, And All Its Tossing Current White With Foam, And Stops And Turns, And Measures Back His Way.

Nor Can One Word Be Chang'd But For A Worse.

Marge, When I Join An Underground Cult I Expect A Little Support From My Family.

Insignificant Mortals, Who Are As Leaves Are, And Now Flourish And Grow Warm With Life, And Feed On What The Ground Gives, But Then Again Fade Away And Are Dead.