Nothing Forces Us To Know What We

No One Can Count The Terrors That The Earth Spawns, Catastrophic, Gruesome, And The Vast Arms Of The Sea Swarm With Brute Monsters Bent On Harm, And Everywhere Between The Sky And Ground Lights Bloom By Day In Flares And Sudden Bolts; And Birds And Beasts Alike Can Tell Of The Whirlwind's Whirling Wrath.

With Our Own Feathers, Not By Others' Hands, Are We Now Smitten.

The So-called Mother Of The Child Isn't The Child's Begetter, But Only A Sort Of Nursing Soil For The New-sown Seed. The Man, The One On Top, Is The True Parent, While She, A Stranger, Foster's A Stranger's Sprout.

Wisdom Comes Through Suffering. Trouble, With Its Memories Of Pain, Drips In Our Hearts As We Try To Sleep, So Men Against Their Will Learn To Practice Moderation. Favours Come To Us From Gods.

To Be Fortunate Is God, And More Than God To Mortals.