Notes copied from a sheet of squared paper

Shall the brunt of these excesses be born by the bourneless? Elevated to an elephant? Of thought? Through bewitchings? Vile is this deportment; equal is only its lassitude. My fillet runs cold at IT! My trusty and radiant royal bag shall accompany me to the Courts of Heaven.

(You could still find a way to correct me, right?)

"Thin are the lines that separate old age from youth."

The influx of caterwauling lynchpins would only be protested by those of loud stamp or colour. The Enscreamion must not be halted!

Even these words fail to convey the latency of Stephen's wallops. So basically an unstoppable pen for scribbling this is? Yes, a true compagnon in these Thymes of Passion and Conflictitude!