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There sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, made a tumult which is whirling through that air forever dark, and sand eddies in a whirlwind.
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He listens well who takes notes
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There's not the least thing can be said or done, but people will talk and find fault.
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A great flame follows a little spark.
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The sad souls of those who lived without blame and without praise.
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