Hey man, you don’t talk to the Abrams. You listen to him. The man’s enlarged my mine. He’s a poet warrior in the classic sense. I mean sometimes he’ll, uh, well, you’ll say hello to him right? And he’ll walk right by you and he won’t even notice you. And suddenly he’ll grab you, and throw you into a corner, and he’ll give you the Vulcan sign and say that coy is the middle word in McCoy? If you can keep your head while all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you, if you can trust yourself when all men doubt you – I mean, the needs of the many… outweigh…I’m no, I can’t – I’m a little man, I’m a little man, he’s, he’s a great man. I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across floors of silent seas…