My father built this house for me. Each of these doors opens to more. My mother - she was royalty, a silver bracelet on each of her gentle wrists. I wouldn't want to frighten you with the state that I'm in. It's not often I have company - I'd have to say, I'm glad you came. Let me walk you through these fourteen halls, each one the same. I wouldn't want to worry you with the state that I'm in.
And you'll see - it all repeats. Everything except the sun, and me.