The Cure Is In The

But Who Can Describe The Overweening Pride Of Men? Or Women Mad With Passion, Reckless In Their Hearts, Soulmates To Every Kind Of Ruin That Befalls Us? Wild Passion, Unrestrained, Boundless, That Overcomes The Women, Perverts The Yoke Of Wedlock For Beasts And Men Alike.

For The Poison Of Hatred Seated Near The Heart Doubles The Burden For The One Who Suffers The Disease; He Is Burdened With His Own Sorrow, And Groans On Seeing Another's Happiness.

There Is No Disgrace In An Enemy Suffering Ill At An Enemy's Hand, When You Hate Mutually.

But When The Dust Has Drunk The Blood Of Men, No Resurrection Comes For One Who's Dead.

By Suffering Comes Wisdom.