Load some shards in that pickle.

, Bk.I, New York 2001, p.148: Melancholy, cold and dry, thick, black, and sour, […] is a bridle to the other two hot humours, blood and choler, preserving them in the blood, and nourishing the bones.

In many cultures, prayer involves singing.

Or perhaps something darker—a raw hunger, a blind ambition wrapped in the gauzy language of service?