Some Things You Will Think Of Yourself,...some

Dreams Surely Are Difficult, Confusing, And Not Everything In Them Is Brought To Pass For Mankind. For Fleeting Dreams Have Two Gates: One Is Fashioned Of Horn And One Of Ivory. Those Which Pass Through The One Of Sawn Ivory Are Deceptive, Bringing Tidings Which Come To Nought, But Those Which Issue From The One Of Polished Horn Bring True Results When A Mortal Sees Them.

Strife, Only A Slight Thing When She First Rears Her Head But Her Head Soon Hits The Sky As She Strides Across The Earth.

I Long For Home, Long For The Sight Of Home.

Miserable Mortals Who Like Leaves At One Moment Flame With Life Eating The Produce Of The Land And At Another Moment Weakly Perish.

Earth Sounds My Wisdom, And High Heaven My Fame.