A Lot Happens By Accident In Poetry.

Nothing In The Universe Can Travel At The Speed Of Light, They Say, Forgetful Of The Shadow's Speed.

Religion And Science Both Profess Peace (and The Sincerity Of The Professors Is Not Being Doubted), But Each Always Turns Out To Have A Dominant Part In Any War That Is Going Or Contemplated.

That So Much Of Our Experience, Or The Stereotype Which Passes For It Should Be Dealt With By Means Of The Short Story Is Perhaps A Symptom Not Unnoticeable Elsewhere In The Public Domain Of An Unlovely Cynicism About Human Character.

Shakespeare Tells The Same Stories Over And Over In So Many Guises That It Takes A Long Time Before You Notice.

I Am Not At All Clear What Free Verse Is Anymore. That's One Of The Things You Learn Not To Know.