The Difference Between A Gun And A

Science Is Unpoetic Only To Minds Jaundiced With Sentiment And Romanticism . . . The Great Masters Of The Past Boasted All They Could Of It And Found It Magical.

I Have Always Thought The Suicide Should Bump Off At Least One Swine Before Taking Off For Parts Unknown.

The Primary Pigment Of Poetry Is The Image.

And The Good Writer Chooses His Words For Their 'meaning', But That Meaning Is Not A A Set, Cut-off Thing Like The Move Of Knight Or Pawn On A Chess-board. It Comes Up With Roots, With Associations, With How And Where The Word Is Familiarly Used, Or Where It Has Been Used Brilliantly Or Memorably.

The Flavors Of The Peach And The Apricot Are Not Lost From Generation To Generation, Neither Are They Transmitted By Book Learning. The Mystic Tradition, Any Mystic Tradition, Is Of A Similar Nature, That Is, It Is Dependent On Direct Perception, A 'knowledge' As Permanent As The Faculty For Receiving It.