I Ask A Wreathwhich Will Not Crush

I Consider Criticism Merely A Preliminary Excitement, A Statement Of Things A Writer Has To Clear Up In His Own Head Sometime Or Other, Probably Antecedent To Writing; Of No Value Unless It Come To Fruit In The Created Work Later.

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!

It Is Better To Present One Image In A Lifetime Than To Produce Voluminous Work. Image...that Which Presents An Intellectual And Emotional Complex In An Instant Of Time.

Adolf Hitler Was A Jeanne D'arc, A Saint. He Was A Martyr. Like Many Martyrs, He Held Extreme Views.

The Apparition Of These Faces In The Crowd; Petals On A Wet Black Bough.