May Dawn, As The Proverb Goes, Bring

Of Prosperity Mortals Can Never Have Enough.

With Our Own Feathers, Not By Others' Hands, Are We Now Smitten.

The Truth Has To Be Melted Out Of Our Stubborn Lives By Suffering. Nothing Speaks The Truth, Nothing Tells Us How Things Really Are, Nothing Forces Us To Know What We Do Not Want To Know Except Pain. And This Is How The Gods Declare Their Love.

Simple Is The Speech Of Truth.

He Who Learns Must Suffer. And Even In Our Sleep Pain That Cannot Forget Falls Drop By Drop Upon The Heart, And In Our Own Despair, Against Our Will, Comes Wisdom To Us By The Awful Grace Of God.