Hell Is The Bloodcurdling Mansion Of Time,

Under All That We Think, Lives All We Believe, Like The Ultimate Veil Of Our Spirits

Pathmaker, There Is No Path; You Make The Path By Walking, By Walking You Make The Path

There Is No Way; We Make The Road By Walking It.

Xxix Traveler, There Is No Path. The Path Is Made By Walking. Traveller, The Path Is Your Tracks And Nothing More. Traveller, There Is No Path The Path Is Made By Walking. By Walking You Make A Path And Turning, You Look Back At A Way You Will Never Tread Again Traveller, There Is No Road Only Wakes In The Sea.

The Unpublished Manuscript Is Like An Uncon-fessed Sin That Festers In The Soul, Corrupting And Contaminating It.