Old Stories Often Turn Out To Be

Here Then Is The Pattern In My Carpet, The Sense Of The Eternal Mysteries, The Eternal Beauty Hidden Beneath The Crust Of Common And Commonplace Things; Hidden And Yet Burning And Glowing Continually If You Care To Look With Purged Eyes.

The Saint Endeavors To Recover A Gift Which He Has Lost; The Sinner Tries To Obtain Something Which Was Never His. In Brief, He Repeats The Fall.

For, Contrary To The Common Opinion, It Is The Wealthy Who Are Greedy Of Wealth; While The Populace Are To Be Gained By Talking To Them About Liberty, Their Unknown God. And So Much Are They Enchanted By The Words Liberty, Freedom, And Such Like, That The Wise Can Go To The Poor, Rob Them Of What Little They Have, Dismiss Them With A Hearty Kick, And Win Their Hearts And Their Votes For Ever, If Only They Will Assure Them That The Treatment Which They Have Received Is Called Liberty.

For, Usually And Fitly, The Presence Of An Introduction Is Held To Imply That There Is Something Of Consequence And Importance To Be Introduced.

I Dream In Fire But Work In Clay.