You Have Learned Enough To See That

The Past And Future / Are Conquered, And Reconciled.

Art Never Improves, But... The Material Of Art Is Never Quite The Same.

The Only Wisdom We Can Hope To Acquire Is The Wisdom Of Humility: Humility Is Endless. The Houses Are All Gone Under The Sea. The Dancers Are All Gone Under The Hill.

Moving Between The Legs Of Tables And Of Chairs, Rising Or Falling, Grasping At Kisses And Toys, Advancing Boldly, Sudden To Take Alarm, Retreating To The Corner Of Arm And Knee, Eager To Be Reassured, Taking Pleasure In The Fragrant Brilliance Of The Christmas Tree.

The Historical Sense Compels A Man To Write Not Merely With His Own Generation In His Bones, But With A Feeling That The Whole Of Literature From Homer And Within It The Whole Of The Literature Of His Own Country Has A Simultaneous Existence And Composes A Simultaneous Order.