Is that because you are the author of certain writings?
I tell you, No.

It is because you killed three men yonder in the pass.

If you would become famous and beloved, Ana, cease from the writing of books and take to the cutting of throats." "Yet the writer still lives when he is dead." "Oho!" laughed Bakenkhonsu, "you are even more foolish than I thought.
How is a man advantaged by what happens when he is dead?
Why, to-day that blind beggar whining on the temple steps means more to Egypt than all the mummies of all the Pharaohs, unless they can be robbed.

Take what life can give you, Ana, and do not trouble about the offerings which are laid in the tombs for time to crumble." "That is a mean faith, Bakenkhonsu." "Very mean, Ana, like all else that we can taste and handle.

A mean faith suited to mean hearts, among whom should be reckoned all save one in every thousand.