I Cling Unto The Burning Æthyr Like

We Can No Longer Assert Any Single Proposition, Unless We Guard Ourselves By Enumerating Countless Conditions Which Must Be Assumed.

I Cling Unto The Burning Æthyr Like Lucifer That Fell Through The Abyss, And By The Fury Of His Flight Kindled The Air. And I Am Belial, For Having Seen The Rose Upon Thy Breast, I Have Denied God. And I Am Satan! I Am Satan! I Am Cast Out Upon A Burning Crag! And The Sea Boils About The Desolation Thereof. And Already The Vultures Gather, And Feast Upon My Flesh.

The Old Spelling Magick Has Been Adopted Throughout In Order To Distinguish The Science Of The Magi From All Its Counterfeits.

She Knew That She Belonged To This Man, Body And Soul. Every Trace Of Shame Departed; It Was Burnt Out By The Fire That Consumed Her. She Gave Him A Thousand Opportunities; She Fought To Turn His Words To Serious Things. He Baffled Her With His Shallow Smile And Ready Tongue, That Twisted All Topics To Triviality. By Six O'clock She Was Morally On Her Knees Before Him; She Was Imploring Him To Stay To Dinner With Her. He Refused.

The Quest Of The Holy Grail, The Search For The Stone Of The Philosophers-by Whatever Name We Choose To Call The Great Work-is Therefore Endless. Success Only Opens Up New Avenues Of Brilliant Possibility.