We Walk Ourselves Into Ruts So Deep

The Place Where You Lose The Trail Is Not Necessarily The Place Where It Ends.

A Prison! Heav'ns, I Loath The Hated Name, Famine's Metropolis, The Sink Of Shame, A Nauseous Sepulchre, Whose Craving Womb Hourly Inters Poor Mortals In Its Tomb; By Ev'ry Plague And Ev'ry Ill Possess'd, Ev'n Purgatory Itself To Thee 's A Jest.

A Lost Trail Always Extends Beyond The Evidence, And Even The Trails We Find Are Only Fragments Of The Trails That Lie Beyond Our Comprehension.

Evil Can Be A Teacher, If You Look At The Wisdom Of Its Negative Power.

Immerse Yourself In Nature’s Symphony And Let Your Senses Burst With Joy.