But first, the birds! I teem with calls of birds.
The fine feathered fowl of Dinosauria.
I blame the birds for every odd catastrophe
That engulfed me whole. To blame the birds and the beasts
Makes as much or more sense than laying the cost
At the feet of God or Satan. No, tis the birds
Which haunt my mortal days and upset the peace.
Curse them or bless them.