Hearme, my chiefs! I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun nowstands, I will fight no more forever.

All your fingernails grow with no convenient speed except broken one.

Every generation revolts against its fathers and makes friends with its grandfathers.

Becausewe focused on the snake, we missed the scorpion.

Speechis human, silence is divine, yet also brutish and dead; therefore we mustlearn both arts.

The comforter's head never aches.

The desire of appearing clever often prevents our becoming so.

When weblame, we give away our power.

Thepast is malleable and flexible, changing as our recollection interprets andre-explains what has happened.

A manneed never revenge himself; the body of his enemy will be brought to his owndoor.

Thefreedom of the city is not negotiable. We cannot negotiate with those whosay, What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is negotiable.

This dualityhas been reflected in classical as well as modern literature as reason versuspassion, or mind versus intuition. The split between the ‘conscious’ mind andthe ‘unconscious.’ There are moments in each of our lives when ourverbal-intellect sugges