When a man takes the road to destruction, the gods help him along.

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.

Fear is stronger than arms.

He hears but half who hears one party only.

For not many men, the proverb saith, can love a friend whom fortune prospereth unenvying.

And though all streams flow from a single course to cleanse the blood from polluted hand, they hasten on their course in vain.

Suffering brings experience.