"He is only scented with musk, he is not himself musk, He smells of musk, but is really naught but dung, For his dung to ..."

"Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving — it doesn't matter, Ours is not a caravan of desp..."

"Everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart..."