In Time Of Sickness The Soul Collects

And That All Seas Are Made Calme And Still With Oile; And Therefore The Divers Under The Water Doe Spirt And Sprinkle It Abroad With Their Mouthes Because It Dulceth And Allaieth The Unpleasant Nature Thereof, And Carrieth A Light With It.

Wine Maketh The Band Quivering, The Eye Watery, The Night Unquiet, Lewd Dreams, A Stinking Breath In The Morning, And An Utter Forgetfulness Of All Things.

The Depth Of Darkness To Which You Can Descend And Still Live Is An Exact Measure Of The Height To Which You Can Aspire To Reach.

Cincinnatus Was Ploughing His Four Jugera Of Land Upon The Vaticanian Hill, The Same That Are Still Known As The Quintian Meadows, When The Messenger Brought Him The Dictatorship, Finding Him, The Tradition Says, Stripped To The Work.

In Time Of Sickness The Soul Collects Itself Anew.