In War The First Casualty

Words Are The Physicians Of A Mind Diseased.

For There Is No Defense For A Man Who, In The Excess Of His Wealth, Has Kicked The Great Altar Of Justice Out Of Sight.

When A Man Dies, Flesh Is Frayed And Broken In The Fire, But Not His Will.

I Pray The Gods Some Respite From The Weary Task Of This Long Year's Watch That Lying On The Atreidae's Roof On Bended Arm, Dog- Like, I Have Kept, Marking The Conclave Of All Night's Stars, Those Potentates Blazing In The Heavens That Bring Winter And Summer To Mortal Men, The Constellations, When They Wane, When They Rise.

It Is An Ill Thing To Be The First To Bring News Of Ill.