And I Rejoiced In Being What I

We Think By Feeling. What Is There To Know?

I Can't Go On Flying Apart Just For Those Who Want The Benefit Of A Few Verbal Kicks. My God, Do You Know What Poems Like That Cost? They're Not Written Vicariously: They Come Out Of Actual Suffering, Real Madness.

All Finite Things Reveal Infinitude: The Mountain With Its Singular Bright Shade Like The Blue Shine On Freshly Frozen Snow, The After-light Upon Ice-burdened Pines; Odor Of Basswood Upon A Mountain Slope, A Scene Beloved Of Bees; Silence Of Water Above A Sunken Tree: The Pure Serene Of Memory Of One Man,- A Ripple Widening From A Single Stone Winding Around The Waters Of The World.

A Too Explicit Elucidation In Education Destroys Much Of The Pleasure Of Learning. There Should Be Room For Sly Hinters, Masters Of Suggestion.

What's Important? That Which Is Dug Out Of Books, Or Out Of The Guts?