Most Horror Movies Are Certainly That.

No Man Can Discover His Own Talents.

Ah, Bless You, Sister, May All Your Sons Be Bishops.

They Took Away Our Land, Our Language, And Our Religion; But They Could Never Harness Our Tongues.

Message? What The Hell Do You Think I Am, A Bloody Postman?

Critics Are Like Eunuchs In A Harem; They Know How It's Done, They've Seen It Done Every Day, But They're Unable To Do It Themselves.