I'll vent the spirit of Delphi within me, unveil the heavens, unlock the decrees of the mind sublime. I'll utter great mysteries, never explored by our fathers' intelligence, mysteries long concealed in the dark. My will is to traverse the stars on high, to abandon this clogging abode on earth, to ride the clouds and to stand on the shoulders of mighty Atlas, gaze down from afar on men who are helplessly straying at random, empty of reason, trembling and troubled by fear of their ending, and so may embolden their hearts by unrolling the scroll of fate!
Ovid, Metamorphoses, 8 CE