Life Is A Stream On Which We

Witches Are Moon-birds, Witches Are The Women Of The False, Beautiful Moon.

Art Is The Desire Of A Man To Express Himself, To Record The Reactions Of His Personality To The World He Lives In.

Art Is Like Politics. Any Theory Carried Too Far Ends In Sterility, And Freshness Is Only Gained By Following Some Other Line.

Guarded Within The Old Red Wall's Embrace, Marshalled Like Soldiers In Gay Company, The Tulips Stand Arrayed. Here Infantry Wheels Out Into The Sunlight.

Oh! To Be A Flower Nodding In The Sun, Bending, Then Upspringing As The Breezes Run.