God made dice, then he made men and women.
A plan may please a clan, but chance will make them dance.
Patterns lull us to sleep; randomness startles us awake.
Death adores luck.
Luck good, skill better, both best.
All success is spawned in a muddy pool of chance.
The random never ride tandem.
If random all, then flee the hall.
Skill is an amulet; it wards off luck.
Chance births despair, and joy.
Chance is God’s antidote for pride.
God will never dance to chance.