Pain Comes From The Darkness. And We

Few Poets Have Made A More Interesting Rhetoric Out Of Just Fooling Around: Turning Things Upside Down, Looking At Them From Under The Sofa, Considering Them (and Their Observer) Curiously Enough To Make The Reader Protest, "that Were To Consider It Too Curiously.

Robert Frost Says In A Piece Of Homely Doggerel That He Has Hoped Wisdom Could Be Not Only Attic But Laconic, Boeotian Even - "at Least Not Systematic"; But How Systematically Frostian The Worst Of His Later Poems Are! His Good Poems Are The Best Refutation Of, The Most Damning Comment On, His Bad: His Complete Poems Have The Air Of Being Able To Educate Any Faithful Reader Into Tearing Out A Third Of The Pages, Reading A Third, And Practically Wearing Out The Rest.

If You Look At The World With Parted Lips And A Pure Heart, And Will The Good, Won't That Make A True And Beautiful Poem? One's Heart Tells One That It Will; And One's Heart Is Wrong. There Is No Direct Road To Parnassus.

One Whitman Is Miracle Enough, And When He Comes Again It Will Be The End Of The World.

It Is Better To Entertain An Idea Than To Take Home To Live With You For The Rest Of Your Life.