Why Fight For A Flag When You

Quiet This Metal! Let The Manes Put Off Their Terror, Let Them Put Off Their Aqueous Bodies With Fire. Let Them Assume The Milk-white Bodies Of Agate. Let Them Draw Together The Bones Of The Metal.

As For Literature It Gives No Man A Sinecure. And No One Knows, At Sight, A Masterpiece. And Give Up Verse, My Boy, There's Nothing In It.

I Dunno What My 23 Infantile Years In America Signify. I Left As Soon As Motion Was Autarchic -- I Mean My Motion.

A Classic Is Classic Not Because It Conforms To Certain Structural Rules, Or Fits Certain Definitions It Is Classic Because Of A Certain Eternal And Irrepressible Freshness.

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.