In The Great Warfare, The Supreme Commander of the mystical forces
knows not to put all of his trust
in the strength of the infantry,
nor in the plans of his generals,
but rather depends most on the intelligence provided by
his own reconnaissance and reflection.
Neither muscles nor knowledge alone a true army makes.

The popular poser of "which came first, the chicken or the egg" was unwittingly lifted by the ordinary from the mystery surrounding the connection between human thought and emotion.

There is yet another myth concerning a warrior who,
when he sought the knowledge of The Secret from the gods,
was given it,
but, in return,
they ripped out his tongue.

When you can look at something and think
"it's not exactly like this, and it's not exactly like that,"
you're beginning to properly explore the frontiers of thought's capacity.

A wise ruler must be alert in all areas of his kingdom.

That which makes man "Man"
resides not in his feet and arms,
nor in his lungs and heart,
but neither is it limited to his head and consciousness.
An enlightened ruler is alert to all corners of his kingdom
at all times.

A certain king one day said to his son: "If you presently feel the need for a hero after whom to pattern your life, look not to the philosophers, nor to the generals, but to that noble dog you so dearly loved, and by whose grave you so often silently stand."

On that long, mysterious march,
those warriors, the weakest,
fall first by speech --
speech, the product of emotions, uncontrolled.