Hot Water Is My Native Element. I

Why Not Be Oneself? That Is The Whole Secret Of A Successful Appearance. If One Is A Greyhound, Why Try To Look Like A Pekingese?

Poetry Ennobles The Heart And The Eyes, And Unveils The Meaning Of All Things Upon Which The Heart And The Eyes Dwell. It Discovers The Secret Rays Of The Universe, And Restores To Us Forgotten Paradises.

By 'happiness' I Do Not Mean Worldly Success Or Outside Approval, Though It Would Be Priggish To Deny That Both These Things Are Most Agreeable. I Mean The Inner Consciousness, The Inner Conviction That One Is Doing Well The Thing That One Is Best Fitted To Do By Nature.

If Certain Critics And Poetasters Had Their Way, 'ordinary Piety' And Its Child, Dullness, Would Be The Masters Of Poetry.

There Is No Truth. Only Points Of View.