By Mourning Tongues The Death Of The

Nobody Knows What The Cause Is, Though Some Pretend They Do; It Like Some Hidden Assassin Waiting To Strike At You. Childless Women Get It, And Men When They Retire; It As If There Had To Be Some Outlet For Their Foiled Creative Fire.

Sob, Heavy World Sob As You Spin, Mantled In Mist Remote From The Happy.

It's Frightfully Important For A Writer To Be His Age, Not To Be Younger Or Older Than He Is. One Might Ask, "what Should I Write At The Age Of Sixty-four," But Never, "what Should I Write In 1940."

Art Is Born Of Humiliation.

Civilizations Should Be Measured By The Degree Of Diversity Attained And The Degree Of Unity Retained.