But Were There Ever Any Writhed Not

A Poet Is The Most Unpoetical Of Anything In Existence; Because He Has No Identity He Is Continually Informing And Filling Some Other Body.

All My Clear-eyed Fish, Golden, Or Rainbow-sided, Or Purplish, Vermilion-tail'd, Or Finn'd With Silvery Gauze... My Charming Rod, My Potent River Spells.

I Have Met With Women Whom I Really Think Would Like To Be Married To A Poem And To Be Given Away By A Novel.

We Read Fine Things But Never Feel Them To The Full Until We Have Gone The Same Steps As The Author.

I Must Choose Between Despair And Energy──i Choose The Latter.