And so man, in his arrogance, presumes even to dictate the death which the Pancreator has preordained for him! The medics of the Guilds would presume to allot our destinies to us, sticking their needles into us and promising panaceas.
Yea, even Zebulon, even Palamedes fell at the preordained hour; and while I heartily support efforts to reduce the torment and suffering that are man's lot in life, I exhort prideful man to bear ever in mind that the Pancreator will have His way, as those hubris-tainted fools of the Second Republic they who scoffed at illness, laughed at pain, mocked death learned to their humility and sorrow.
