There is no permanence. Do we build a house to stand for ever, do we seal a contract to hold for all time? Do brothers divide an inheritance to keep for ever, does the flood-time of rivers endure? It is only the nymph of the dragon-fly who sheds her larva and sees the sun in his glory. From the days of old there is no permanence.' On seeing the walls of his city, Gilgamesh realises in a moment of introspection that the journey has changed him profoundly. In processing his grief, he understands

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... hat everything on earth is ephemeral and that, eventually, we all will die.