But As For Lucy, She Was Always

The Knight Is A Man Of Blood And Iron, A Man Familiar With The Sight Of Smashed Faces And The Ragged Stumps Of Lopped-off Limbs; He Is Also A Demure, Almost A Maidenlike, Guest In Hall, A Gentle, Modest, Unobtrusive Man. He Is Not A Compromise Or Happy Mean Between Ferocity And Meekness; He Is Fierce To The Nth And Meek To The Nth.

It Is Hardly Complimentary To God That We Should Choose Him As An Alternative To Hell.

A Man Can Eat His Dinner Without Understanding Exactly How Food Nourishes Him. A Man Can Accept What Christ Has Done Without Knowing How It Works: Indeed, He Certainly Would Not Know How It Works Until He Has Accepted It.

The Moment Good Taste Knows Itself, Some Of Its Goodness Is Lost.

If Nothing In This World Satisfies Me, Perhaps It Is Because I Was Made For Another World.