Why Do You Always Write Poetry? Why

Books Are A Refuge, A Sort Of Cloistral Refuge, From The Vulgarities Of The Actual World.

Through The Survival Of Their Children, Happy Parents Are Able To Think Calmly, And With A Very Practical Affection, Of A World In Which They Are To Have No Direct Share.

A Certain Strangeness, Something Of The Blossoming Of The Aloe, Is Indeed An Element In All True Works Of Art: That They Shall Excite Or Surprise Us Is Indispensable.

Experience, Already Reduced To A Group Of Impressions, Is Ringed Round For Each One Of Us By That Thick Wall Of Personality Through Which No Real Voice Has Ever Pierced On Its Way To Us, Or From Us To That Which We Can Only Conjecture To Be Without.

Every Intellectual Product Must Be Judged From The Point Of View Of The Age And The People In Which It Was Produced.