Fate steals along with silent tread, Found oftenest in what least we dread, Frowns in the storm with angry brow, But in the sunshine strikes the blow.

Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, While meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.

True Charity, a plant divinely nurs'd.

But oars alone can ne'er prevail To reach the distant coast; The breath of Heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost.

I thought you were crazy, wishing such a thing. I saw only a stick on fire, Alone on its journey Home to the quickening ground, With no one there to catch it.

Nor is it any longer possible for you to give up this empire ... Your empire is now like a tyranny: it may have been wrong to take it; it is certainly dangerou…

A human exposed without protection to the conditions required to support Affronter life would be dying in at least three excitingly different and painful ways …