We Walk Ourselves Into Ruts

This Earth Is A Garden, This Life A Banquet, And It's Time We Realized That It Was Given To All Life, Animal And Man, To Enjoy.

The First Track Is The End Of A String. At The Far End, A Being Is Moving; A Mystery, Dropping A Hint About Itself Every So Many Feet, Telling You More About Itself Until You Can Almost See It, Even Before You Come To It. The Mystery Reveals Itself Slowly, Track By Track, Giving Its Genealogy Early To Coax You In. Further On, It Will Tell You The Intimate Details Of Its Life And Work, Until You Know The Maker Of The Track Like A Lifelong Friend.

A Lost Trail Always Extends Beyond The Evidence, And Even The Trails We Find Are Only Fragments Of The Trails That Lie Beyond Our Comprehension.

Evil Can Be A Teacher, If You Look At The Wisdom Of Its Negative Power.

If We Are Going To Allow Somebody To Request A Recount, The Intent Obviously Is That You Expect A Recount To Be Included.