We Shall Perish By Guile Just As

The Cure Is In The House, Not Brought By Other Hands From Distant Places, But By Its Own, In Agony And Blood.

Obedience, You Know, Is Good Luck's Mother, Wedded To Salvation, They Say.

For There Below Ground Sits The Dark God, Strong To Call Men To Judgment; He Sees All, And Writes It In His Memory.

A Great Ox Stands On My Tongue.

Out Of Respect, A Man Must Veil His Words When Talking With A Woman, But With A Man He Can Frankly Say Whatever's On His Mind.