All Men, Even The Most Surly Are

In Shakespeare One Sentence Begets The Next Naturally; The Meaning Is All Inwoven. He Goes On Kindling Like A Meteor Through The Dark Atmosphere.

In Koln, A Town Of Monks And Bones, And Pavement Fang'd With Murderous Stones, And Rags And Hags, And Hideous Wenches, I Counted Two-and-seventy Stenches, All Well Defined, And Several Stinks! Ye Nymphs That Reign O'er Sewers And Sinks, The River Rhine, It Is Well Known, Doth Wash Your City Of Cologne; But Tell Me, Nymphs! What Power Divine Shall Henceforth Whash The River Rhine.

Prayer Is The Very Highest Energy Of Which The Mind Is Capable.

What If You Slept? And What If, In Your Sleep, You Went To Heaven And There Plucked A Strange And Beautiful Flower? And What If,when You Awoke,you Had The Flower In Your Hand? Ah, What Then?

The Language Of The Dream/night Is Contrary To That Of Waking/day. It Is A Language Of Images And Sensations, The Various Dialects Of Which Are Far Less Different From Each Other, Than The Various Day-languages Of Nations.