I Could I Trust Starve Like A

Artists Are The Antennae Of The Race, But The Bullet-headed Many Will Never Learn To Trust The Great Artists.

No Good Poetry Is Ever Written In A Manner Twenty Years Old, For To Write In Such A Manner Shows Conclusively That The Writer Thinks From Books, Convention And Cliché, Not From Real Life.

And The Betrayers Of Language ...... N And The Press Gang And Those Who Had Lied For Hire; The Perverts, The Perverters Of Language, The Perverts, Who Have Set Money-lust Before The Pleasures Of The Senses; Howling, As Of A Hen-yard In A Printing-house, The Clatter Of Presses, The Blowing Of Dry Dust And Stray Paper, Foetor, Sweat, The Stench Of Stale Oranges.

Until You Know Who Has Lent What To Whom, You Know Nothing Whatever Of Politics, You Know Nothing Whatever Of History, You Know Nothing Of International Wrangles.

Technique Is The Test Of Sincerity.