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We shall never hear what you do. We are the maker of bells, you are but the Fool who rings it. Insensate and unknowing wretch, we MORE than hear it. We feel the blasts of fire, smell the burnt earth, are soaked in sweats, blistered from foundering, and madly blinded by the greasy lead. Oh such Joy! Oh such Peace!

We shall see you in Hell.
She has MANY bells.