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Forgotten Lore of the Unseen World

Owl Flies, Hare Leaps, Cock Crows

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Robin Artisson
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"It is true that I am of an older fashion; much that I love has been destroyed or sent into exile."
-Samuel Johnson

"...Despite all of the things that appear to us to be messed up in one way or another, the way life is working itself out in the universe is the way it is supposed to be working itself out; that is, life, being, and consciousness are supremely and unquestionably good. And the second is that the appropriate human response to the first perception is gratitude. The most primary expression of religion is to give thanks for the innate rightness of life."
-William Bainbridge

"Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry,
The philosophy which does not laugh
And the greatness which does not bow before children."

-Kahlil Gibran

"I have a vision, and I know
The heathen shall return.
They shall not come with warships,
They shall not waste with brands,
But books be all their eating,
And ink be on their hands."

-G.K. Chesterton
The Ballad of the White Horse

"...In the morning, I was alone, tired and freezing, face down in the woods, near the great mound I had first seen her standing upon. I dreamed such madness- I saw the white dogs following her, the pale people who flitted along like bats; I saw the white strands of thread that cobwebbed the entire world- I saw what others cannot see: that we are warm, pulsing mortals stuck in an eternal web of white threads of death, and the ground beneath our feet that looks so firm and solid is just a crust that covers an eternal black void, full of the regrets of the ages, and the forms of every dead thing. We are ripening, we humans, getting full and ripe, and then, we fall below, severed from the vine of life that we are all unconsciously a part of. We go to join in the feast below the rotting hill.

There is no other point to our lives but surrender to the Great Dark that awaits. There was a time when I would have been frightened by such a prospect, but not now. In that surrender, a strange wisdom arises- you find out who you are when you give up on being anything. And I am he who loves the Black-eyed beauty that rose from the mound, and who broke open the graves. I will join her at the feast below.

I saw that spectral feast, but the food was red dust. I saw dark rivers and great halls, that resonated with a timeless splendor and a great macabre sadness. I saw a great black man, black as obsidian, with great spreading horns, sitting at the head of a table, drinking from a cup of stone. I saw my love, the only love I will ever have, running through twilit fields and forests, on a great white horse that had burning eyes. Oh, my angel, my goddess, my muse, my life, my soul, my hidden bride, my everything, please, deliver me from the torment of wanting you! I choose death and dust to be with you!"

-Robin Artisson, Gwel-a-Throt

The Core Document of a Traditional Witchcraft

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