It Is Difficult To Write A Paradiso

The Man Of Understanding Can No More Sit Quiet And Resigned While His Country Lets Its Literature Decay, And Lets Good Writing Meet With Contempt, Than A Good Doctor Could Sit Quiet And Contented While Some Ignorant Child Was Infecting Itself With Tuberculosis Under The Impression That It Was Merely Eating Jam Tarts.

Colloquial Poetry Is To The Real Art As The Barber's Wax Dummy Is To Sculpture.

Somebody Said That I Am The Last American Living The Tragedy Of Europe.

I Once Saw A Small Child Go To An Electric Light Switch As Say, Mamma, Can I Open The Light? She Was Using The Age-old Language Of Exploration, The Language Of Art.

Rhythm Must Have Meaning.