What you call riddles are truths, and seem riddles because you are not true." "Worse and worse!" I cried.
"And you MUST answer the riddles!" he continued.

"They will go on asking themselves until you understand yourself.

The universe is a riddle trying to get out, and you are holding your door hard against it." "Will you not in pity tell me what I am to do--where I must go ?" "How should I tell YOUR to-do, or the way to it ?" "If I am not to go home, at least direct me to some of my kind." "I do not know of any.

The beings most like you are in that direction." He pointed with his beak.

I could see nothing but the setting sun, which blinded me.
"Well," I said bitterly, "I cannot help feeling hardly treated--taken from my home, abandoned in a strange world, and refused instruction as to where I am to go or what I am to do!" "You forget," said the raven, "that, when I brought you and you declined my hospitality, you reached what you call home in safety: now you are come of yourself! Good night." He turned and walked slowly away, with his beak toward the ground.