For woolcarders the straight and the crooked path is one and the same. Asses would rather have refuse than gold. They would not have known the name of justice, were it not for these things. All the things we see when awake are death, and all the things we see when asleep are sleep. The name of the bow is life, but its work is death.
Gods are mortals, men are immortals, each living in the others' death and dying in the others' life.
Upward, downward, the way is one and the same. The limits of the soul you could not discover, though traversing every path. It is a delight to souls to become wet. Whenever a man gets drunk, he is led about by a beardless boy, stumbling, not knowing whither he goes, for his soul is wet. The dry soul is wisest and best.