"In rot the foams of wrong elide a bloodshed, in riotous chorus cast the ratios between the harmony and fume," the heart responded. It snapped its tentacles again, and struck Moon Champion across the chest.

"Neat," he cried. "I didn't know that. I hope it means something." The material of his suit, whatever it was, showed no sign of having had a biological diamond razor flicked across it.

http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-bowe-decommission-part-two