The Pigs Stuck Out Their Little Feet

Why Shouldn't We, So Generally Addicted To The Gigantic, At Last Have Some Small Works Of Art, Some Short Poems, Short Pieces Of Music [...], Some Intimate, Low-voiced, And Delicate Things In Our Mostly Huge And Roaring, Glaring World?

What One Seems To Want In Art, In Experiencing It, Is The Same Thing That Is Necessary For Its Creation, A Self-forgetful, Perfectly Useless Concentration.

Close, Close All Night The Lovers Keep. They Turn Together In Their Sleep, Close As Two Pages In A Book That Read Each Other In The Dark. Each Knows All The Other Knows, Learned By Heart From Head To Toes.

And As To Experience-well, Think How Little Some Good Poets Have Had, Or How Much Some Bad Ones Have.

Democracy In The Contemporary World Demands, Among Other Things, An Educated And Informed People.