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Perhaps that dawn will come from this horizon, from the East where the sun rises. A day will come when unvanquished Man will retrace his path of conquest, despite all barriers, to win back his lost human heritage.

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The world we suggest is a new wild west. A sensuous evil world. Strange and haunting, the path of the sun.

The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day. When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, a cloud come over the sunlit arch, And wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.

By touching you may kill, by keeping away you may possess.

In the world's audience hall, the simple blade of grass sits on the same carpet with the sunbeams, and the stars of midnight.

Alas, why are my nights all thus lost? Ah, why do I ever miss his sight whose breath touches my sleep?

The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original.