small beachhead their nothing was one sees everyday is nothing adrift yourself know no more bonds with the body It is nothing at all. you have leapt over men in order to come upon nothing at all. I should be delighted with you if only for your name, Paracelsus, as illustrious as lovely, great aid to unhappiness free unscathed compatriots those fools who would pierce nature's secrets? caught in the caudine forks reaped the evil result of being deceived in many things reason would root out all hunt down all old leave nothing else how slight reason inheres in all men all that is lacking to which she answered that she prayed the threat might be fulfilled rather a maiden all life long than lose her father distinguished physician of his day met his end unworthy the dead body hung on a cross they could be grateful for their freedom the dream fulfilled the rest he reckoned slaves by impalement when rain fell he was washed by Zeus, anointed by Helios the moisture sweated out of him the end of long-continued prosperity previously foretold before he can do us further harm he must be stopped, by death he is a man who has never yet lifted a finger force is always beside the point when subtlety will serve bursts of words built on a shim tautly strung on lines of couplets and triplets studded or compressed in marshalled stanzas with stark questions not anything less than blazing forth spilling over the page