He Who Observes Etiquette But Objects To

Death Is The Sanction Of Everything That The Storyteller Can Tell. He Has Borrowed His Authority From Death.

In The Fields With Which We Are Concerned, Knowledge Comes Only In Flashes. The Text Is The Thunder Rolling Long Afterward.

The True Picture Of The Past Flits By. The Past Can Be Seized Only As An Image Which Flashes Up At The Instant When It Can Be Recognized And Is Never Seen Again.

All Religions Have Honored The Beggar. For He Proves That In A Matter At The Same Time As Prosaic And Holy, Banal And Regenerative As The Giving Of Alms, Intellect And Morality, Consistency And Principles Are Miserably Inadequate.

No Poem Is Intended For The Reader, No Picture For The Beholder, No Symphony For The Listener.