And Rest At Last Where Souls Unbodied

I Am A Part Of All That I Have Met. Yet, Experience Is An Arch Wherethro Gleams That Untravl'd World Whose Margin Fades Forever And Forever When I Move.

What Is This Word That Broke Through The Fence Of Your Teeth, Atreides?

Evil Deeds Do Not Prosper; The Slow Man Catches Up With The Swift.

We Battle On In Words, As Always, Mere Words, And What's The Cure? We Cannot Find A Thing.

There Is No Greater Glory That Can Befall A Man That What He Achieves With The Speed Of His Feet Or The Strength Of His Hands.