There are souls beneath that water. Fixed in slimethey speak their piece, end it, and start again:'Sullen were we in the air made sweet by the Sun;in the glory of his shining our hearts poureda bitter smoke. Sullen were we begun;sullen we lie forever in this ditch.'This litany they gargle in their throatsas if they sand, but lacked the words and pitch.

O foolish anxiety of wretched man, how inconclusive are the arguments which make thee beat thy wings below!

There sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, made a tumult which is whirling through that air forever dark, and sand eddies in a whirlwind.

One ought to be afraid of nothing other then things possessed of power to do us harm, but things innoucuous need not be feared.

Everywhere is here and every when is now.

The devil is not as black as he is painted.

Many have justice in their hearts, but slowly it is let fly, for it comes not without council to the bow.