When I hit 11 so did the careers of Dylan and the Stones. A year later it was the Who and the Kinks.
The elixir of life, the philosopher's stone is yours if you surrender sterile logic, trivial reason.
No amounts of stone and bone could yield the kinds of information that the paintings gave so freely.
What the eyes perceive in herbs or stones or trees is not yet a remedy; the eyes see only the dross.
Too many people spouting too many words, and in the end those words will turn to bullets and stones.