And At The Instant He Knew, He

Love Is The Sum Of All The Arts, As It Is The Reason For Their Existence.

The Fortunate Man Is The One Who Cannot Take More Than A Couple Of Drinks Without Becoming Intoxicated. The Unfortunate Wight Is The One Who Can Take Many Glasses Without Betraying A Sign; Who Must Take Numerous Glasses In Order To Get The ‘kick’.

Deep In The Forest A Call Was Sounding, And As Often As He Heard This Call, Mysteriously Thrilling And Luring, He Felt Compelled To Turn His Back Upon The Fire And The Beaten Earth Around It, And To Plunge Into The Forest, And On And On, He Knew Not Where Or Why; Nor Did He Wonder Where Or Why, The Call Sounding Imperiously, Deep In The Forest.

The Greatest Of The Arts Is The Conquering Of Men.

The Great Task Demanded Of Man Is Reproduction. He Is Urged By Passion To Perform This Task. Passion, Working Through The Imagination, Produces Love. Passion Is The Impelling Factor, Imagination The Disturbing Factor; And The Disturbance Of Passion By Imagination Produces Love.