Whenever A Man Makes Haste, God Too

If You Pour Oil And Vinegar Into The Same Vessel, You Would Call Them Not Friends But Opponents.

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.

But Who Can Describe The Overweening Pride Of Men? Or Women Mad With Passion, Reckless In Their Hearts, Soulmates To Every Kind Of Ruin That Befalls Us? Wild Passion, Unrestrained, Boundless, That Overcomes The Women, Perverts The Yoke Of Wedlock For Beasts And Men Alike.

Base Men Who Prosper Are Unenviable.

Those Who Would Learn Must Suffer. In Our Own Despair, Against Our Will, Wisdom Comes To Us.