Unbelievably, the whales continued to circle me. Eventually, I was even able to run my hands down Mama's back several times. Her black skin felt much tougher and tired. Remnants of barnacles made her skin rough in patches. She seemed more hesitant of this human. Perhaps she had firsthand evidence of man's horrible actions and treachery. I didn't blame her for her concerns. I had come to trust fewer and fewer humans myself. Her giant eyes possessed wisdom only found in the passage of time and miles traveled on long journeys.

The road to treachery and malice has always been cobbled with the intentions of those who thought to only do what was best.

Sedition is sedition no matter who commits it! Violence and treachery is always wrong!

Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.

It is not history. But I am beginning to wonder strongly what is the nature of history. Is it only memory in decent sentences, and if so, how reliable is it? I would suggest, not very. And that therefore most truth and fact offered by these syntactical means is treacherous and unreliable. And yet I recognise that we live our lives, and even keep our sanity, by the lights of this treachery and this unreliability, just as we build our love of country on these paper worlds of misapprehension and untruth. Perhaps this is our nature, and perhaps unaccountably it is part of our glory as a creature, that we can build our best and most permanent buildings on foundations of utter dust.

Men feel that cruelty to the poor is a kind of cruelty to animals. They never feel that it is an injustice to equals nay it is treachery to comrades.

Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't don't call it destiny call it injustice treachery or simple bad luck.

Only those who spread treachery fire and death out of hatred for the prosperity of others are undeserving of pity.