They did not lose themselves, as did the other sects, in contemplative mysticism; for them the good dwelt in action.
…the perfect soldier of Mithras, non-attached, passionless, disciplined, inured to hardship, sleeping for whole months on the frozen snow and hard earth; ambitious, cruel and ruthless, but possessed of immense personal courage…
Mithras, the Fellow in the Cap
Nothing can be what it was
But through the drifting mist of loss
You hope to find a home.