'Look not too long in the face of the fire, O man! Never dream with thy hand on the helm! Turn not thy back to the compass; accept the first hint of the hitching tiller, believe not the artificial fire, when its redness makes all things look ghastly. Tomorrow, in the natural sun, the skies will be bright; those who glared like devils in the forking flames, the morn will show in far other, at least, gentler, relief; the glorious, golden, glad sun, the only true lamp - all others but liars!'
from Moby-Dick by Herman Melville (Chapter 96)
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