Come you masters of war You that build all the guns You that build the death planes You that build the big bombs You that hide behind walls You that hide behind desks I just want you to know I can see through your masks.

Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

You are just a murdered. (Near) (btw this was an epic win on near's part when light spazzed out and went crazy)

It always takes longer than you expect, even if you take Hofstadter&#39;s Law into account.

Written By Douglas Hofstadter

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