Lo! Now The Direful Monster, Whose Skin

Man Has No Body Distinct From His Soul; For That Called Body Is A Portion Of Soul Discerned By The Five Senses, The Chief Inlets Of Soul In This Age.

Improvement Makes Strait Roads, But The Crooked Roads Without Improvement, Are Roads Of Genius.

The Roaring Of Lions, The Howling Of Wolves, The Raging Of The Stormy Sea, And The Destructive Sword, Are Portions Of Eternity, Too Great For The Eye Of Man.

A Good Local Pub Has Much In Common With A Church, Except That A Pub Is Warmer, And There's More Conversation.

The Human Mind Cannot Go Beyond The Gift Of God, The Holy Ghost. To Suppose That Art Can Go Beyond The Finest Specimens Of Art That Are Now In The World Is Not Knowing What Art Is; It Is Being Blind To The Gifts Of The Spirit.