Thus with my lips have I denounced you, while my heart, bleeding within me, called you tender names.

You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living.

Often times I have hated in self-defense; if I were stronger I would not have used such a weapon.

Verily the kindness that gazes upon itself in a mirror turns to stone, and a good deed that calls itself by tender names becomes the parent to a curse.

Yet has not Man wept at the sounds? And are not his tears eloquent understanding?

How often have you sailed in my dreams. And now you come in my awakening, which is my deeper dream.

As one's gifts increase, his friends decrease.