At other times, like Pachomius, it is the soulless life of the party. At all times it is poised for betrayal. Every word of it, however it may be pronounced, is spelt treacherous. Verbs are cunning. Adverbs and adjectives are false friends.
Pronouns prey on the poor in spirit.
Nouns are full of deceit. Though it requires us to say it we do not have knowledge. Rather are we possessed by knowledge. It has us. And having us this tattered tautology dresses itself up in syllogisms and presents itself at the World's End Ball as wisdom.