I Am Patient With Stupidity But Not

In The Augustan Age ... Poetry Was ... The Sister Of Architecture; With The Romantics, And Their Heightened Vowel-sense, Resulting In Different Melodic Lines, She Became The Sister Of Music; In The Present Day, She Appears Like The Sister Of Horticulture, Each Poem Growing According To The Law Of Its Own Nature.

If Certain Critics And Poetasters Had Their Way, 'ordinary Piety' And Its Child, Dullness, Would Be The Masters Of Poetry.

What An Artist Is For Is To Tell Us What We See But Do Not Know That We See.

A Great Many People Now Reading And Writing Would Be Better Employed Keeping Rabbits.

Rhythm Is One Of The Principal Translators Between Dream And Reality.