To Be Fortunate Is God, And More

Do Not Kick Against The Pricks.

May Dawn, As The Proverb Goes, Bring Happy Tidings Coming From Her Mother Night.

The Air Is Zeus, Zeus Earth, And Zeus The Heaven, Zeus All That Is, And What Transcends Them All.

In Visions Of The Night, Like Dropping Rain, Descend The Many Memories Of Pain.

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