No single thing abides; but all things flow. Fragment to fragment clings - the things thus grow Until we know them and name them. By degrees They melt, and are no more the things we know.

Such evil deeds could religion prompt.

In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.

Look at a man in the midst of doubt & danger and you will learn in his hour of adversity what he really is.

Pleasant it is, when over a great sea the winds trouble the waters, to gaze from shore upon another's great tribulation: not because any man's troubles are a delectable joy, but because to perceive from what ills you are free yourself is pleasant.

Out beyond our world there are, elsewhere, other assemblages of matter making other worlds. Ours is not the only one in air's embrace.

From the very fountain of enchantment there arises a taste of bitterness to spread anguish amongst the flowers.