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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⢿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠄⠄⠄⢀⣀⣀⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⢿
⣿⣿⣿⡟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠐⢻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈
⣿⣿⣿⠃⠄⠄⠄⢀⠴⠛⠙⣿⣿⡿⣿⣦⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⠃⠄⢠⡖⠉⠄⠄⠄⣠⣿⡏⠄⢹⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠
⣿⠃⠄⠄⢸⣧⣤⣤⣤⢾⣿⣿⡇⠄⠈⢻⡆⠄⠄⠄⠄⣾
⠁⠄⠄⠄⠈⠉⠛⢿⡟⠉⠉⣿⣷⣀⠄⠄⣿⡆⠄⠄⢠⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⡿⠿⢿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠃⠄⠄⣸⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⡞⠄⠄⠄⠈⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢸⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣿⣿⡟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⣿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⠄⠄⠄⢀⡼⠛⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣼⣿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡇⠄⠄⢀⠎⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⢿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⢰⠃⠄⢀⠎⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄+rep ⠄⠄⠄⠙
Who made the world I cannot tell;
'Tis made, and here am I in hell.
My hand, though now my knuckles bleed,
I never soiled with such a deed.
-- A.E. Housman
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
"Wh
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