Artists Are The Antennae Of The Race,

Go To The Adolescent Who Are Smothered In Family-- Oh How Hideous It Is To See Three Generations Of One House Gathered Together! It Is Like An Old Tree With Shoots, And With Some Branches Rotted And Falling.

Fit For Kings, Formal Gardens Afford An Earthly Elysium And The Odd Impression That We Mere Men Might Actually Control Nature For A Time.

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.

There Is Natural Ignorance And There Is Artificial Ignorance. I Should Say At The Present Moment The Artificial Ignorance Is About Eighty-five Per Cent.

The Author's Conviction On This Day Of New Year Is That Music Begins To Atrophy When It Departs Too Far From The Dance; That Poetry Begins To Atrophy When It Gets Too Far From Music; But This Must Not Be Taken As Implying That All Good Music Is Dance Music Or All Poetry Lyric. Bach And Mozart Are Never Too Far From Physical Movement.