My Heart Is Quite Calm Now. I

Our Souls, Shame-wounded By Our Sins, Cling To Us Yet More, A Woman To Her Lover Clinging, The More The More.

Any Object, Intensely Regarded, May Be A Gate Of Access To The Incorruptible Eons Of The Gods.

I Am Proud To Be An Emotionalist.

I Should Tell You That Honestly, On My Honour Of A Nearwicked, I Always Think In A Wordworth's Of That Primed Favourite Continental Poet, Daunty, Gouty And Shopkeeper, A.g., Whom The Generality Admoyers In This That Is And That This Is To Come.

By An Epiphany He Meant A Sudden Spiritual Manifestation, Whether In The Vulgarity Of Speech Or Of Gesture Or Memorable Phrase Of The Mind Itself. He Believed It Was For The Man Of Letters To Record These Epiphanies With Extreme Care (saving Them For Later Use, That Is), Seeing That They Themselves Are The Most Delicate And Evanescent Of Moments.