“The morning was bright and propitious. Before their departure, mass had been said in the chapel, and the protection of St. Ignatius invoked against all contingent evils, but especially against bears, which, like the fiery dragons of old, seemed to cherish unconquerable hostility to the Holy Church. (“The Legend Of Monte Del Diablo”).”

“And now, for something completely the same:Wasted time and wasted breath,’s what I’ll make, until my death.Helping people ‘d be as good,but I wouldn’t, if I could.For the few that help deserve,have no need, or not the nerve,help from strangers to accept,plus from mine a few have wept.Wept from joy, or from despair,or just from my vengeful stare.Ways I have, to look at stupid,make them see I am not Cupid.Make them see they are in error,for of truth I am a bearer.Most decide I’m just a bear,mauling at them, – like I care.”