⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⢉⢉⠉⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠠⡰⣕⣗⣷⣧⣀⣅⠘⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣠⣳⣟⣿⣿⣷⣿⡿⣜⠄⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠄⣳⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣝⠖⠄⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⠃⠄⢢⡹⣿⢷⣯⢿⢿⢷⡫⣗⠍⢰⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⡏⢀⢄⠤⣁⠋⠿⣗⣟⡯⡏⢎⠁⢸⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⠄⢔⢕⣯⣿⣿⡲⡤⡄⡤⠄⡀⢠⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⠇⠠⡳⣯⣿⣿⣾⢵⣫⢎⢎⠆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⠄⢨⣫⣿⣿⡿⣿⣻⢎⡗⡕⡅⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⠄⢜⢾⣾⣿⣿⣟⣗⢯⡪⡳⡀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⠄⢸⢽⣿⣷⣿⣻⡮⡧⡳⡱⡁⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⡄⢨⣻⣽⣿⣟⣿⣞⣗⡽⡸⡐⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⡇⢀⢗⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣞⡵⡣⣊⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⡀⡣⣗⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡯⡺⣼⠎⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣧⠐⡵⣻⣟⣯⣿⣷⣟⣝⢞⡿⢹⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢘⡺⣽⢿⣻⣿⣗⡷⣹⢩⢃⢿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⠪⣯⣟⣿⢯⣿⣻⣜⢎⢆⠜⣿⣿

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Here lies a toppled god.
His fall was not a small one.
We did but build his pedestal,
A narrow and a tall one.

Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. Climb the mountain just a little bit to test that it's a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain.

The willow submits to the wind and prospers until one day it is many willows - a wall against the wind.

What has mood to do with it? You fight when the necessity arises—no matter the mood! Mood's a thing for cattle or making love or playing the baliset. It's not for fighting.