Cathedrals rise from dust to show man wonder. And in the stones men carve the
Danse Macabre to show that life is brief. We carry scythes in the army of
the robed skeleton, who is carved on a thousand doorways, a thousand walls.
We are the followers of Death, whose cruel visage is drawn in a
million tiny prayer books which the rich and the poor alike hold in their
hands. And all the unfathomed silence of the sky!

-Santino