Rumours Voiced By Women Come To Nothing.

Yet Though A Man Gets Many Wounds In Breast, He Dieth Not, Unless The Appointed Time, The Limit Of His Life's Span, Coincide; Nor Does The Man Who By The Hearth At Home Sits Still, Escape The Doom That Fate Decrees.

For This Our Task Hath Fate Spun Without Fail To Last For Ever Sure, That We On Man Weighed Down With Deeds Of Hate Should Follow Till The Earth His Life Immure. Nor When He Dies Can He Boast Of Being Truly Free.

The Seed Of Mortals Broods O'er Passing Things, And Hath Nought Surer Than The Smoke-cloud's Shadow.

The Reward Of Suffering Is Experience

The Laws Of A State Change With The Changing Times.