As To The State, From My Point

Snobbery? But It's Only A Form Of Despair.

Because Every Book Of Art, Be It A Poem Or A Cupola, Is Understandably A Self-portrait Of Its Author, We Won't Strain Ourselves Too Hard Trying To Distinguish Between The Author's Persona And The Poem's Lyrical Hero. As A Rule, Such Distinctions Are Quite Meaningless, If Only Because A Lyrical Hero Is Invariably An Author's Self-projection.

Language And, Presumably, Literature Are More Ancient And Inevitable, More Durable Than Any Form Of Social Organization. The Revulsion, Irony, Or Indifference Often Expressed By Literature Toward The State Is Essentially The Reaction Of The Permanent-better Yet, The Infinite-against The Temporary, Against The Finite.

If They Had Wanted To Punish Me, They Should Have Kept Me In A Communal Apartment. Then I Would Have Become A Wreck.

At Certain Periods Of History It Is Only Poetry That Is Capable Of Dealing With Reality By Condensing It Into Something Graspable, Something That Otherwise Wouldn't Be Retained By The Mind.