To Be Fortunate Is God, And More

There Is Advantage In The Wisdom Won From Pain.

Time Waxing Old Can Many A Lesson Teach.

Watchful Are The Gods Of All Hands With Slaughter Stained. The Black Furies Wait, And When A Man Has Grown By Luck, Not Justice, Great, With Sudden Overturn Of Chance They Wear Him To A Shade, And, Cast Down To Perdition, Who Shall Save Him?

You Have Been Trapped In The Inescapable Net Of Ruin By Your Own Want Of Sense.

For The Mighty, Even To Give Away Is Grace.