The red sun was pasted in the sky like a wafer.

He saw that it was an ironical thing for him to be running thus toward that which he had been at such pains to avoid.

Perhaps an individual must consider his own death to be the final phenomenon of nature.

Two or three angels Came near to the earth. They saw a fat church. Little black streams of people Came and went in continually. And the angels were puzzled To know why the people went thus, And why they stayed so long within.

Tradition, thou art for suckling children, Thou art the enlivening milk for babes, But no meat for men is in thee.

A mysterious fraternity born out of smoke and danger of death.

The red sun was pasted in the sky like a wafer.