... Whatever Is Not Happening Now Is

How Our Story Has Been Divided Up Among The Truth-telling Professions! Religion, Philosophy, History, Poetry, Compete With Each Other For Our Ears; And Science Competes With All Together. And For Each We Have A Different Set Of Ears. But, Though We Hear Much, What We Are Told Is As Nothing: None Of It Gives Us Ourselves, Rather Each Story-kind Steals Us To Make Its Reality Of Us.

Truth Rings No Bells.

Pseudo-modernists Pursue Individual Style Because They Know They Cannot Make A Name Without It; But If They Had Lived In The Eighteenth Century Their Sole Object Would Have Been To Write Correctly, To Conform To The Manner Of The Period. In Practice, Their Conforming Individualism Means An Imitation, Studiously Concealed, Of The Eccentricities Of Poems Which Really Are Individual.

Anger Is Precious Because It Is An Immediate, Undeniable Clue To What Our Minds (so Much More Cautious In Rejection And Resistance Than Our Bodies) Will Not Tolerate.

Ideas Are The Old-age Of Art. Artists Have To Keep Young; They Must Not Think Too Much - Thought Is Death, While Art Is Life. Such Was Emile's Viewpoint.