My master keeps me warm when I lie behind him in his chair. It is because he is a god. In front of the fire-place is a hot stone. That stone is divine.
I speak when I please. From my master's mouth proceed likewise sounds which make sense. But his meaning is not so dear as that expressed by the sounds of my voice. Every sound that I utter has a meaning. From my master's lips come forth many idle noises. It is difficult but necessary to divine the thoughts of the master.
To eat is good. To have eaten is better. For the enemy who lieth in wait to take your food is quick and crafty.
All is flux and reflux. I alone remain.