Memory Is The Mother Of All Wisdom.

I Pray The Gods Some Respite From The Weary Task Of This Long Year's Watch That Lying On The Atreidae's Roof On Bended Arm, Dog- Like, I Have Kept, Marking The Conclave Of All Night's Stars, Those Potentates Blazing In The Heavens That Bring Winter And Summer To Mortal Men, The Constellations, When They Wane, When They Rise.

Fear Is Stronger Than Arms.

In The Sinews Of The Dead There Is No Blood.

Once To Die Is Better Than Length Of Days In Sorrow Without End.

Since Long I've Held Silence A Remedy For Harm.