Herman Melville Was As Separated From A

Intellectual Sodomy, Which Comes From The Refusal To Be Simple About Plain Matters, Is As Gross And Abundant Today As Sexual Perversion And They Are Nowise Different From One Another.

Man Hoards Himself When He Has Nothing To Give Away.

Look At This Poet William Carlos Williams: He Is Primitive And Native, And His Roots Are In Raw Forest And Violent Places; He Is Word-sick And Place-crazy. He Admires Strength, But For What? Violence! This Is The Cult Of The Frontier Mind.

What Is Most Appalling In An F. Scott Fitzgerald Book Is That It Is Peopleless Fiction: Fitzgerald Writes About Spectral, Muscledsuits; Dresses, Hats, And Sleeves Which Have Some Sort Of Vague, Libidinous Throb. These Are Plainly The Product Of Sickness.

Perhaps Samuel Johnson Was A Great Man; He Was Certainly A Drumbling One.