Shake Your Fist All You Want But

A Civilization Can Easily Drown In What It Knows As In What Doesn't Know. Consider,' He Continued, Gotho's Folly. Gotho's Curse Was In Being Too Aware - Of Everything. Every Permutation, Every Potential. Enough To Poison Every Scan He Cast On The World. It Availed Him Naught, And Worse, He Was Aware Of Even That.

So You Say, With Your Shiny Hair And Pouty Lips - And Those Breasts - Just Wait Till You Start Dropping Whelps, They'll Be At Your Ankles One Day, Big As They Are - Not The Whelps, The Breasts. The Whelps Will Be In Your Hair - No, Not The Shiny Hair On Your Head, Well, Yes, That Hair, But Only As A Manner Of Speech.

The Future Can Ever Promise But One Thing And One Thing Only: Surprises.

Do Mortal Fools Still Measure The Increments Leading To Their Deaths, Wagering Pleasures Against Costs, Persisting In The Delusion That Deeds Have Value, That The World And All The Gods Sit In Judgment Over Every Decision Made Or Not Made?

The Harder The World, The Fiercer The Honour.