Satan, Really, Is The Romantic Youth Of

Winds Of May, That Dance On The Sea, Dancing A Ring-around In Glee From Furrow To Furrow, While Overhead The Foam Flies Up To Be Garlanded, In Silvery Arches Spanning The Air, Saw You My True Love Anywhere? Welladay! Welladay! For The Winds Of May! Love Is Unhappy When Love Is Away!

A Classical Style... Is The Syllogism Of Art, The Only Legitimate Process From One World To Another. Classicism Is Not The Manner Of Any Fixed Age Or Of Any Fixed Country; It Is A Constant State Of The Artistic Mind. It Is A Temper Of Security And Satisfaction And Patience.

The State Is Concentric, But The Individual Is Eccentric.

He Lived At A Little Distance From His Body, Regarding His Own Acts With Doubtful Side-glances. He Had An Odd Autobiographical Habit Which Led Him To Compose In His Mind From Time To Time A Short Sentence About Himself Containing A Subject In The Third Person And A Verb In The Past Tense.

His Heart Danced Upon Her Movement Like A Cork Upon A Tide.