Any Allegiance To A Deity Or Concept

The Victorians, They Were Like The Germans In World War Ii. They Could Not Stop Recording Details About Their Lives And Their Age.

In Such Seconds Of Decision Entire Futures Are Made.

Every Age Fraught With Discord And Danger Seems To Spawn A Leader Meant Only For That Age, A Political Giant Whose Absence, In Retrospect, Seems Inconceivable When The History Of That Age Is Written.

Poets Are The Mad Midwives To Reality. They See Not What Is, Nor What Can Be, But What Must Become.

Words Are The Light And Sound Of Our Existence, The Heat Lightning By Which The Night Is Illuminated.