your hand will cease to shake tonight, should i have anything to do with it, and i will scream at your jimmeny cricket to let loose its hold on your soul for a butterfly is passing like the shocks of autumn winds and should in no way shape or form allow you to hold your head in sorrow.
the great laws of nature are known not by zorba. they are far less stringent than one would believe. i have lived by them my many small years but my association with them has taught me great things. fear not a small infraction, but fear with magnitude abomination. beware the lone thorn tree that grows in the field. what would you do, human, with that axe that you wield?
