I seem to have misplaced my bronze liver model, not to mention the hot and dripping sacrificial animal’s organ to be compared to it. Sothis haruspex doesn’t know what’s to come, or whether the omens are good or bad. The forces of disorder and selfishness seem strong — in the world, I meant, but perhaps within myself as well. Actually I’m afraid of what I would predict, could I do so. Nor am I cheerful, looking backwards. So, as we step across the threshold, let me hope instead.