If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine. - Rudyard Kipling

Though our smoke may hide the Heavens from your eyes,
It will vanish and the stars will shine again,
Because, for all our power and weight and size,
We are nothing more than children of your brain!

When your Daemon is in charge, do not try to think consciously. Drift, wait, and obey.

Ye know who use the Crystal Ball ⁠(To peer by stealth on Doom), ⁠The Shade that, shaping first of all, ⁠⁠Prepares an empty room. ⁠⁠⁠Then doth It pass ⁠⁠⁠Like breath from glass, ⁠But, on the extorted vision bowed intent, ⁠No man considers why It came or went.