A Devil from The Philistine, Dec. 1906.

As above, so below:
An Arch-Druid, depicted in Charles Knight's
Old England: A Pictorial Museum (1845)

The moon has a face like the clock in the hall.
—Robert Louis Stevenson, A Child's Garden of Verses

(Image by tutincommon. See full size here.)

Photo by Robert Doisneau, via.

Saint Columba (left) looks out from Oronsay, Inner Hebrides.

"I stood with my back against the forest, stood there on a giant cliff, years above the spreading fires, and the dying rubble below, my eyes searching everywhere for dawn." —Frederic Tuten, Self Portraits: Fictions

"Everywhere lovers are grasping for dreams jumping through burning windows." —Frederic Tuten, Self Portraits: Fictions

"Soon ... we'll have shredders to pulp all the books in the world. And with the compost, we'll fertilize a million trees, each taller than eternity, their branches leaved with hanged bodies." —Frederic Tuten, Self Portraits: Fictions

"He had given up his pin-striped suit and was in a flowing black robe—like a wizard in King Arthur's days. . . . 'It's less constraining than a suit,' he said, when I noticed the change in his attire, 'and more befitting our time.'" —Frederic Tuten, Self Portraits: Fictions

"In the distance, a crenellated tower sprouted long arms of orange fire . . . 'It's a beautiful castle,' I said. 'Lancelot might have sequestered his beloved there when he stole her from his king.' 'A castle only good for storing memories and old keys,' he said. 'A castle for us when we were very young,' she said, giving him a sharp look, 'because then as now we had no place to go.'" —Frederic Tuten, Self Portraits: Fictions