Will cannot be quenched against its will.
Consider the sea's listless chime: Time's self it is, made audible.
In each fire there is a spirit; Each one is wrapped in what is burning him.
And as he, who with laboring breath has escaped from the deep to the shore, turns to the perilous waters and gazes.
Midway upon the journey of our life
Follow your path, and let the people talk.