And stifle them we must to play the role, voices steady, manners nonchalant, amid the torrents of profanities and soul-shrinking depravities that bubble up in a mainstream without margins
The North is a noyer to grass of all suites, / The East a destroyer to herb and all fruits.
[H]e repeated under his breath: The Rock of Chickamauga! The Rock of Chickamauga! It rolled resoundingly off the tongue, and he liked it.
The Rock of Chickamauga! The Rock of Chickamauga!
He thinks of the creation as a grand symphony (see also figure 13), a notion we shall find diagrammed in figures 79-83; and here he explicates the universal harmony as ten enneachords — that is, a chord of nine notes.
enneachords
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