Well, So It Must Be, For As

The Visible World Was Only An Imperfect Reflection Of The Ideal, Which The Philosopher Sought To Transcend.

On One Occasion I Shared A Bed With About Seven Other People, But We Were All Having A Party Overnight

All Gods Are One God.

Light Flared Through Every Limb, A Force Far Too Great To Be Contained In Any Human Frame; But For That Moment She Was The Great Mother, Giving Birth To The World.

Rome Was Mud And Smoky Skies; The Rank Smell Of The Tiber And The Exotically Spiced Cooking Fires Of A Hundred Different Nationalities. Rome Was White Marble And Gilding And Heady Perfumes; The Blare Of Trumpets And The Shrieking Of Market-women And The Eternal, Sub-aural Hum Of More People, Speaking More Languages Than Gaius Had Ever Imagined Existed, Crammed Together On Seven Hills Whose Contours Had Long Ago Disappeared Beneath This Encrustation If Humanity. Rome Was The Pulsing Heart Of The World.