My Eyes Were Often Full Of Tears

Poetry, Even When Apparently Most Fantastic, Is Always A Revolt Against Artifice, A Revolt, In A Sense, Against Actuality. It Speaks Of What Seems Fantastic And Unreal To Those Who Have Lost The Simple Intuitions Which Are The Test Of Reality; And, As It Is Often Found At War With Its Age, So It Makes No Account Of History, Which Is Fabled By The Daughters Of Memory.

Children Must Be Educated By Love, Not Punishment.

If There Is Any Difficulty In What I Write, It Is Because Of The Material I Use. The Thought Is Always Simple.

Have Read Little And Understood Less.

No Pen, No Ink, No Table, No Room, No Time, No Quiet, No Inclination.