By Her Shining And Her Power He

Death Was The Price Of Life.

At The Stair-foot Hephaistion Was Waiting. He Happened To Be There, As He Happened To Have A Ball Handy If Alexander Wanted A Game, Or Water If He Was Thirsty; Not By Calculation, But In A Constant Awareness By Which No Smallest Trifle Was Missed. Now, When He Came Down The Stairs With A Shut Mouth And Blue Lines Under His Eyes, Hephaistion Received Some Mute Signal He Understood, And Fell Into Step Beside Him.

In All Men Is Evil Sleeping; The Good Man Is He Who Will Not Awaken It, In Himself Or In Other Men.

How Can People Trust The Harvest, Unless They See It Sown?

Change Is The Sum Of The Universe, And What Is Of Nature Ought Not To Be Feared. But One Gives It Hostages, And Lays One's Grief Upon The Gods. Sokrates Is Free, And Would Have Taught Me Freedom. But I Have Yoked The Immortal Horse That Draws The Chariot With A Horse Of Earth; And When The One Falls, Both Are Entangled In The Traces.