No, I Don't Admire The Genius. But

A Word Can Be Transformed Into A Coulour, Light, A Smell; It Is The Writer's Task To Use It In Such A Way That It Serves, Never Fails, Can Never Be Ignored.

Do You Know What Constitutes A Great Poet? He Is A Person Without Shame, Incapable Of Blushing. Ordinary Fools Have Moments When They Go Off By Themselves And Blush With Shame; Not So The Great Poet.... If You Really Have To Quote Someone, Quote A Geographer; That Way You Won't Give Yourself Away. (p 44)

And Love Became The World's Origin And The World's Ruler, Yet Littered Its Path Is With Flowers And Blood, Flowers And Blood.

I Love Three Things," I Then Say. "i Love A Dream Of Love I Once Had, I Love You, And I Love This Patch Of Earth." "and Which Do You Love Best?" "the Dream.

The Heavy Red Roses Smoldering In The Foggy Morning, Blood-colored And Uninhibited, Made Me Greedy, And Tempted Me Powerfully To Steal One--i Asked The Prices Merely So I Could Come As Near Them As Possible.