Perfect is the enemy of good.
We adore, we invoke, we seek to appease, only that which we fear.
You have no control over the hand that life deals you, but how you play that hand is entirely up to you.
The only way to compel men to speak good of us is to do it.
We offer up prayers to god only because we have made him after our own image. We treat him like a pasha, or a sultan, who is capable of being exasperated and appeased.
For seventeen hundred years the Christian sect has done nothing but harm.