From the very fountain of enchantment there arises a taste of bitterness to spread anguish amongst the flowers.
Things stand apart so far and differ, that What's food for one is poison for another.
The wailing of the newborn infant is mingled with the dirge for the dead.
Continual dropping wears away a stone.
Violence and wrong enclose all who commit them in their meshes and do mostly recoil on him from whom they begin.
Violence and injury enclose in their net all that do such things, and generally return upon him who began.