"In Russia we had to have special visas in our passports, and when we had to show our passports at the Kremlin gates, we realized that, Oh my God, we're actually playing in THE Kremlin!"

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A dog starv'd at the master's gate Predicts the ruin of the State. A horse misus'd upon the road Calls to heaven for human blood. Each outcry of the hunted hare A fibre from the brain does tear, A skylark wounded on the wing, A cherubim does cease to sing.

— William Blake