But Any Man Who Walks In The

An Envious Heart Makes A Treacherous Ear.

Justice, Like Beauty, Is In The Eye Of The Beholder.

Most Things Are Born In The Mothering Darkness And Most Things Die. Darkness Is The Womb Of Creation, My Boy. But The Sun With His Seven Horns Of Flame Is The Father Of Life.

There Is A Basin In The Mind Where Words Float Around On Thought And Thought On Sound And Sight. Then There Is A Depth Of Thought Untouched By Words, And Deeper Still A Gulf Of Formless Feelings Untouched By Thought.

I Have A Strong Suspicion . That Much That Passes For Constant Love Is A Golded- Up Moment Walking In Its Sleep.