I hear the wind blowing across the desert and I see the moons of a winter night
rising tike great ships in the void. To them I make my vow: I will be resolute
and make an art of government; I will balance my inherited past and become a
perfect storehouse of my relic memories. And I will be known for kindliness
more than for knowledge. My face will shine down the corridors of time for as
long as humans exist.

-Leto's Vow, After Harq al-Ada