Those who build men from wood do not see the foreword of history. If men had a history, or a preface to a history, it would say of wooden pillars that they crumbled and rotted in the winds and the rains. Of stone it would say nothing as stone would still live in the present so to hold the sky and to allow the eyes of men to look upon and marvel its resilience. I have seen the wooden ladders that are used to climb by the carvers of stone; I have seen a million panes of glass shatter when they realise they are sand and I have seen fabrics of many colours stand tall and be saluted as men lay waste to me. Yet if I am to be trusted at all and these words seen as of worth in their reading, then hear this. Only when all else is true only, I can stand in the valley to watch the mountains be conceived by nature and then concealed by the nature snow. If this is the story of everything then what is left for man but to observe.