Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.
It's a thin line between paper and hate, Friends and snakes, nine millis and thirty-eights, Hell or the pearly gates. . . I was destined to come, Predicted, blame God, He blew breath in my lungs.