Each Man Must Create His

A Skylark Wounded In The Wing, / A Cherubim Does Cease To Sing.

On No Other Ground Can I Sow My Seed Without Tearing Up Some Stinking Weed.

Down The Winding Cavern We Groped Our Tedious Way, Till A Void Boundless As The Nether Sky Appeared Beneath Us, And We Held By The Roots Of Trees And Hung Over This Immensity; But I Said: If You Please We Will Commit Ourselves To This Void And See Whether Providence Is Here Also.

The Apple Tree Never Asks The Beech How He Shall Grow, Nor The Lion, The Horse, How He Shall Take His Prey.

A Truth That's Told With Bad Intent Beats All The Lies You Can Invent.