Glance Is The Enemy Of Vision.

Haie! Haie! These Were The Swift To Harry; These The Keen-scented; These Were The Souls Of Blood. Slow On The Leash, Pallid The Leash-men!

Good Art However 'immoral' Is Wholly A Thing Of Virtue. Good Art Can Not Be Immoral. By Good Art I Mean Art That Bears True Witness, I Mean The Art That Is Most Precise.

Literature Is News That Stays News.

The Difference Between A Gun And A Tree Is A Difference Of Tempo. The Tree Explodes Every Spring.

Poetry Is A Language Pared Down To Its Essentials.