The wheat ripens, and waits not for the scythe. The farmer who waits too long, it were better that he use the scythe to rip his own stomach out than to stay his scythe when the wheat ripens. The harvest moon wanes... and then comes winter. An empty belly, the body sans belly, gurgling within or bloody on the ground, what does it benefit a man if he gains his soul and loses the world? You hunger... feed yourself... before it's too late.