The Trouble About Most Englishwomen Is That

I Am An Unpopular Electric Eel Set In A Pond Of Goldfish.

Winter Is The Time For Comfort, For Good Food And Warmth, For The Touch Of A Friendly Hand And For A Talk Beside The Fire: It Is The Time For Home.

The Light Would Show (if It Could Harden) Eternities Of Kitchen Garden

As For The Usefulness Of Poetry, Its Uses Are Many. It Is The Deification Of Reality. It Should Make Our Days Holy To Us. The Poet Should Speak To All Men, For A Moment, Of That Other Life Of Theirs That They Have Smothered And Forgotten.

I Wouldn't Dream Of Following A Fashion... How Could One Be A Different Person Every Three Months?