“If I know the way home + am walking along it drunkenly, is it any less the right way because I am staggering from side to side?” – Tolstoy

The home of a drunk is no right way.  Though he crawl, he cannot be on the right way.  And when he reaches his home, he’ll find it no home at all.  “There is a way which seems right to a man.  But the end there of is death”.

By His Grace.