How Prone To Doubt, How Cautious Are

Oh, Everything Looks Bad If You Remember It.

Anger, Which, Far Sweeter Than Trickling Drops Of Honey, Rises In The Bosom Of A Man Like Smoke.

Bad Herdsmen Waste The Flocks Which Thou Hast Left Behind.

...like That Star Of The Waning Summer Who Beyond All Stars Rises Bathed In The Ocean Stream To Glitter In Brilliance.

The Hearts Of The Great Can Be Changed.