The Moving Light, Rejoicing In Its Strength,

I Would Rather Be Ignorant Than Knowledgeable Of Evils.

The Misfortunes Of Mankind Are Of Varied Plumage.

I Willingly Speak To Those Who Know, But For Those Who Do Not Know I Forget.

A Man Dies Not For The Many Wounds That Pierce His Breast, Unless It Be That Life's End Keep Pace With Death, Nor By Sitting On His Hearth At Home Doth He The More Escape His Appointed Doom.

Everyone, To Those Weaker Than Themselves, Is Kind.