‘Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that when I speak the life of a man I may give his story meaning. I stand before the masters who know the histories of the dead, who decide which tales to hear again, who judge the books of lives as either full or empty, who are themselves authors of truth. And they are Isis and Osiris, the divine intelligences. And when the story is written and the end is good and the soul of a man is perfected, with a shout they lift him into heaven. I too, am a man longing for perfection. I wait to shine forth in Manu, the place of the setting sun.
Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may tell the truth of my own becoming. I stand before the masters who witness the judgment of souls, who sniff out the misdeeds, the imperfections, the lies and half-truths we tell ourselves in the dark. And they are Thoth and his two companions, Anubis and Asten, who hold the books of truths and lies and make comparisons. It is the night of blotting out souls, of staying transformation, of withholding the power of a man to make mischief. Speak. I am a man longing for candor. I wait to come forth by day in Abydos, city of the dead.’
— Triumph through the Cities, Egyptian Book of the Dead
My latest Egyptian diety, Thoth, Master of Wisdom, and Architect of Truth.