The Burning Gaze Of A Young Woman,

Only One Accomplishment Is Beyond Both The Power And The Mercy Of The Gods. They Cannot Make The Past As Though It Had Never Been.

Beyond Age, Leaf Withered, Man Goes Three Footed No Stronger Than A Child Is, A Dream That Falters In Daylight.

A Great Ox Stands On My Tongue.

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.

Mourn For Me Rather As Living Than As Dead.