Colloquial Poetry Is To The Real Art

If A Nation's Literature Declines, The Nation Atrophies And Decays.

Mass Ought To Be In Latin, Unless You Could Do It In Greek Or Chinese. In Fact, Any Abracadabra That No Bloody Member Of The Public Or Half-educated Ape Of A Clargimint Could Think He Understood.

The Age Demanded An Image Of Its Accelerated Grimace, Something For The Modern Stage, Not, At Any Rate, An Attic Grace.

What Thou Lovest Well Remains.

The Only History That Matters Is The History We Know.