Two households, both alike in dignity, in Middle Earth, where we lay our scene From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal realms of these two foes A pair of star-cross’d brothers make their life Whose misadventure Sauron overthrows, And with his death, end their people’s strife. Their fearful passage, that shall death mark’d prove And the continuance of their parents’ rage Which but The One Ring’s end, naught could remove, Is now, like, twelve hours’ traffic of our stage; The which of you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
"A lot of boys in my poker circle are mathematicians who play on probability. I don’t have that kind of brain, so I rely on instinct. But I recently found out that poker and cards in general go way back in my family gene pool."