O To Be A Dragon, A Symbol

Writing Is An Undertaking For The Modest.

We Are What We Were At Birth, And Each Trait Has Remained In Conformity With Earth's And With Heaven's Logic: Be The Devil's Tool, Resort To Black Magic, None Can Diverge From The Ends Which Heaven Foreordained.

Omissions Are Not Accidents.

Concurring Hands Divide Flax For Damask That When Bleached By Irish Weather Has The Silvered Chamois-leather Water-tightness Of A Skin.

Psychology, Which Explains Everything, Explains Nothing, And We Are Still In Doubt.