In Every Good Poem Everything Must Be

The Subject Of History Is The Gradual Realization Of All That Is Practically Necessary.

I Can No Longer Say My Love And Your Love; They Are Both Alike In Their Perfect Mutuality.

There Is No Self-knowledge But An Historical One. No One Knows What He Himself Is Who Does Not Know His Fellow Men, Especially The Most Prominent One Of The Community, The Master's Master, The Genius Of The Age.

In England, Wit Is At Least A Profession, If Not An Art. Everything Becomes Professional There, And Even The Rogues Of That Islandare Pedants. So Are The "wits" There Too. They Introduce Into Reality Absolute Freedom Whose Reflection Lends A Romantic And Piquant Air To Wit, And Thus They Live Wittily; Hence Their Talent For Madness. They Die For Their Principles.

The Main Thing Is To Know Something And To Say It.