There Sighs, Lamentations And Loud Wailings Resounded

Art, As Far As It Is Able, Follows Nature, As A Pupil Imitates His Master; Thus Your Art Must Be, As It Were, God's Grandchild.

All Of Nature Is God's Art.

Here We Find The Moat Of Thieves. And Just As A Lizard, With A Quick, Slick Slither, Flicks Across The Highway From Hedge To Hedge, Fleeter Than A Flash, In The Battering Dog-day Weather, A Fiery Little Monster, Livid, In A Rage, Black As Any Peppercorn, Came And Made A Dart At The Guts Of The Others, And Leaping To Engage One Of The Pair, It Pierced Him At The Part Through Which We First Draw Food; Then Loosed Its Grip And Fell Before Him, Outstretched And Apart.

The More Souls Who Resonate Together, The Greater The Intensity Of Their Love... And, Mirror-like... Each Soul Reflects The Other.

The Path To Paradise Begins In Hell.