So you're strolling along a mountain road accompanied only by the Beatles, and suddenly you meet a comely young man disguised as a horse and follow him helplessly into an abandoned building where God knows what fate awaits you. Happens every day if you're Jean Cocteau:
"What," it will be questioned, "when the Sun rises, do you not see a round disk of fire somewhat like a Guinea?" O no, no, I see an Innumerable company of the Heavenly host saying, "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty." ~ William Blake
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