It Is Not Always Wise To Appear

But What Was A Body? Dust, Dung, Urine, Itches. It Was The Light Within Which Was Important, And It Was Not Significant If That Light Endured After Death, Or If The Soul Was Blinded Eternally In The Endless Night Of The Suspired Flesh.

I Am A Westerner Of Westerners!

I Am Not Alone At All, I Thought. I Was Never Alone At All. And That, Of Course, Is The Message Of Christmas. We Are Never Alone. Not When The Night Is Darkest, The Wind Coldest, The World Seemingly Most Indifferent. For This Is Still The Time God Chooses.

Character, I Am Sure, Lies In The Genes.

The Arrogance Of Officialdom Should Be Tempered And Controlled, And Assistance To Foreign Hands Should Be Curtailed, Lest Rome Fall.