And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, till the Devil whispered behind the leaves 'It's pretty, but is it Art?'

Your new-caught, sullen peoples / Half devil and half child.

Payday came and with it beer

We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a surplice peg, We have learned to bottle our parent twain in the yelk of an addled egg. We know that the tail must wag the dog, for the horse is drawn by the cart, But the devil never whoops, as he of old; It's clever, but is it art?

Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!

A brave heart and a courteous tongue. They shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling.