Life Is Sad Enough, Magir.

Love Is For Fools. It Is A Surging Of Blood In The Loins ... There Is No Mystery, And No Magic. Find Someone Else, My Boy.

None Of Us Can Choose The Manner Of Our Passing.

Everyone Makes Mistakes. Everyone Fails At Something.

We Are Tiny Flames, Helikaon, And We Flicker Alone In The Great Dark For No More Than A Heartbeat. When We Strive For Wealth, Glory And Fame, It Is Meaningless. The Nations We Fight For Will One Day Cease To Be. Even The Mountains We Gaze Upon Will Crumble To Dust. To Truly Live We Must Yearn For That Which Does Not Die.

Our Modern World, Though Infinitely More Complex Than That Of Ancient Greece, Is Also Far More Superficial. Where The Greeks Offered Simple Psychological Training, We Live In An Age Of Style And Spin In Which Perceptions Of Good And Evil Slither And Shift With The Political View Of The Moment.