Poetry Is Man's Rebellion Against Being What

I Do That Which I Do In Every Place. Here Also, At The Gateway Of That Garden Into Which Time Has Not Entered, I Fight With Time My Ever-losing Battle, Because To Do That Diverts Me.

What Really Matters Is That There Is So Much Faith And Love And Kindliness Which We Can Share With And Provoke In Others, And That By Cleanly, Simple, Generous Living We Approach Perfection In The Highest And Most Lovely Of All Arts. . . . But You, I Think, Have Always Comprehended This.

I Have Read That The Secret Of Gallantry Is To Accept The Pleasures Of Life Leisurely, And Its Inconveniences With A Shrug; As Well As That, Among Other Requisites, The Gallant Person Will Always Consider The World With A Smile Of Toleration, And His Own Doings With A Smile Of Honest Amusement, And Heaven With A Smile Which Is Not Distrustful — Being Thoroughly Persuaded That God Is Kindlier Than The Genteel Would Regard As Rational.

Good And Evil Keep Very Exact Accounts... And The Face Of Every Man Is Their Ledger.

There Is No Escaping, At Times, The Gloomy Suspicion That Fiddling With Pens And Ink Is, After All, No Fit Employment For A Grown Man.