Men Of Ideas Vanish When Freedom Vanishes.

My Name Is Truth And I Am The Most Elusive Captive In The Universe.

Never Will A Time Come When The Most Marvelous Recent Invention Is As Marvelous As A Newborn Child.

Poetry Is A Mock Of A Cry At Finding A Million Dollars And A Mock Of A Laugh At Losing It.

Poetry Is A Packsack Of Invisible Keepsakes.

His Books Were Part Of Him. Each Year Of His Life, It Seemed, His Books Became More And More A Part Of Him. This Room, Thirty By Twenty Feet, And The Walls Of Shelves Filled With Books, Had For Him The Murmuring Of Many Voices. In The Books Of Herodotus, Tacitus, Rabelais, Thomas Browne, John Milton, And Scores Of Others, He Had Found Men Of Face And Voice More Real To Him Than Many A Man He Had Met For A Smoke And A Talk.