I Am Willing To Taste

Love, I Take It, Must Look Toward Something Not Quite Accessible, Something Not Quite Understood.

Some Few There Must Be In Every Age And Every Land Of Whom Life Claims Nothing Very Insistently Save That They Write Perfectly Of Beautiful Happenings.

I Have Followed After The Truth, Across This Windy Planet Upon Which Every Person Is Nourished By One Or Another Lie.

At All Events, I Do Not Mean To Leave It Unaltered.

Here Was The Astounding Fact: The Race Did Go Forward; The Race Did Achieve; And In Every Way The Race Grew Better. Progress Through Irrational And Astounding Blunders, Whose Outrageousness Bedwarfed The Wildest Cliches Of Romance, Was What Kennaston Found Everywhere. All This, Then, Also Was Foreplanned, Just As All Happenings At Storisende Had Been, In His Puny Romance; And The Puppets, Here To, Moved As They Thought Of Their Own Volition, But Really In Order To Serve A Denouement In Which Many Of Them Had Not Any Personal Part Or Interest...