Such Such sorrow I feel for man. He may never live within the realm of Amazonia, only dwell within her pleasures. For he is firmly footed to earthen concerns with roots held tight by Nature. In this truth lies the desire of man to conquer Her. Yet he is so earthbound that even in the realization that his desire can never be quenched, it only adds to his heated anger until his resentment turns to oppression. For he, reigned over by no Lord more than his own loins, is only guardian to that which can create. For creation is never his, forever Hers in all ways. This majesty he cannot touch, only wish to emulate. For if his seed were no more, She, being Nature, would turn half her species into amphibians. For that, be it my guess, the true origin of Princes. For Nature is of such a cunning trickery that She bestows all blame to Fortune.
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