The Strongest Have Their Moments Of Fatigue.

He That Writeth In Blood And Proverbs Doth Not Want To Be Read, But Learnt By Heart.

Blessed Are The Forgetful: For They Get The Better Even Of Their Blunders.

I Love All Who Are Like Heavy Drops Falling One By One Out Of The Dark Cloud That Lowereth Over Man: They Herald The Coming Of The Lightning, And Succumb As Heralds.

I Love Him Whose Soul Is Deep Even In The Wounding, And May Succumb Through A Small Matter: Thus Goeth He Willingly Over The Bridge.

Dead Are All Gods: Now We Want The Overman To Live.