His sinews woxen weake and raw / Through long emprisonment and hard constraint.

― You come in when I point the baton right at you, and you come in playing the Rhinegold motif. Now what was that you think you just played? ― The Call to the Colors, anybody knows that. Besides I don't even know this here Rhinegold thing and my father said I probly should play this anyway because it's the best thing I can play.

[…]unless my heart stops, okay? Nada — unless I'm a flatliner."

And from each other look thou lead them thus Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep.