The people want to talk about Adam Driver and his most face. They’re asking the questions, they want to know if his skin contains Grail-worthiness, if the great big bones God granted him to bear up the mainsail of his face are the bones of a worthy knight and pure. Do you know? From his youth he were all that was seemly and demure, fed by grey-winged nuns in seclusion and goodwill. And in some lights he were fair and well made, and in other lights he were a son of giants. Fists like loaves of bread, too wide to hold even the Blessed Sacrament, and the abbess were torn on whether this was a sign of his blessedness (“For sure he must receive his sacrament as a child receives mother’s milk, in full trust and dependence,”) or of his unworthiness (“For what man could hope to bear a lance that could not first bear the Host?” And so he went on to wrought a little film, and to wrought a little television, and sought bravely and with courtesy his fortune throughout Christendom, and outside Christendom too, and there were never reports of cowardice or imbravery that followed him home. But shall he seek the Grail? Some say Yea sure, and some say Never, not while he values his life, not when he has not even ventured to spend a night in the Perilous Bed, from which all knights rise in shame. Some say it was from the Perilous Bed that he himself were conceived, though others call this jealous slander, from those who envy the wideness of his brow, a sure sign of God’s favor, a brow as wide as Jerusalem.
One of my ex-boyfriends both looks and sounds like Adam Driver after, like, a deci-Hapsburg's worth of inbreeding. #blessed
"Adam Driver and his most face." That's the best description of his face ever. He definitely has a most face.
Yea, hark thou to the tale well told of the Matter of Longfar.