What gratification is brought from a deep breath 
if there is no wickedly swift chase 
which leaves your lungs gasping and straining for air?
And what enjoyment is brought from a victor's feast 
if there is no brutally fought battle 
which leaves your stomach hollow and swollen with hunger?
What ecstacy is ice cold water to a man who is not thirsty?
And what paradise is the sun to a man who is not half frozen?
Oceans of pleasure obtained without bitter droughts
Are but another body of water in an already drowning world
Therefore in even the pinnacle of heavens there must still
exist struggles,
the fruits of our labor sweeten only by our blood and sweat,
they fully rippen only within our slaving, blistered hands 
and if not for the arid seasons, infernal rotting, and covetous erosion
the nectar of our fruit would never render so sweet