To Hunt For Symbols In A Fairy

The Trees Encountered On A Country Stroll Reveal A Lot About That Country's Soul ... A Culture Is No Better Than Its Woods.

He Was My North, My South, My East And West, My Working Week And My Sunday Rest, My Noon, My Midnight, My Talk, My Song; I Thought That Love Would Last Forever: I Was Wrong.

Good Can Imagine Evil; But Evil Cannot Imagine Good.

A Poet's Hope: To Be, Like Some Valley Cheese, Local, But Prized Elsewhere.

Recipe For The Upbringing Of A Poet: 'as Much Neurosis As The Child Can Bear.