User blog comment:JoePlay/Portal 2 Giveaway/@comment-3550728-20110415180639

Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, And could of cubes distinguish her election, Hath seal'd this for herself, for it hast been As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, A cube that fortune's buffets and rewards Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those Whose plush and stuffing are so well commeddled That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that cube That is not passion's slave, and I will wear it In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As i do thee.