O human race, born to fly upward, wherefore at a little wind dost thou so fall?

Reason flies When following the senses, on clipped wings.

You shall find out how salt is the taste of another man's bread, and how hard is the way up and down another man's stairs.

Consider your origins: you were not made to live as brutes, but to follow virtue and knowledge.

Into the eternal darkness, into fire and into ice.

At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain.

For where the instrument of intelligence is added to brute power and evil will, mankind is powerless in its own defense.