Let faith oust fact; let fancy oust memory; I look deep down and do believe.

وأنا الصياد الذى لا يرتاح أبداَ.
الصياد الذى لا وطن له.
والتى أقصدها ما تزال تطير أمامى;
وأنا سأتبعها،
مع أنها قادتنى إلى ماوراء الجبال،
عبر بحارٍ بلا شموس،
داخل الليل والموت

Champollion deciphered the wrinkled granite hieroglyphics. But there is no Champollion to decipher the Egypt of every man's and every being's face. Physiognomy, like every other human science, is but a passing fable. If then, Sir William Jones, who read in thirty languages, could not read the simplest peasant's face in its profounder and more subtle meanings, how may unlettered Ishmael hope to read the awful Chaldee of the Sperm Whale's brow? I but put that brow before you. Read it if you can.