History Is The New Poetry.

For Every One Hundred Men Who Can Stand Adversity There Is Only One Who Can Withstand Prosperity.

The Greatest Fault Is To Be Conscious Of None.

We Have Our Little Theory On All Human And Divine Things. Poetry, The Workings Of Genius Itself, Which, In All Times, With One Or Another Meaning, Has Been Called Inspiration, And Held To Be Mysterious And Inscrutable, Is No Longer Without Its Scientific Exposition. The Building Of The Lofty Rhyme Is Like Any Other Masonry Or Bricklaying: We Have Theories Of Its Rise, Height, Decline And Fall -- Which Latter, It Would Seem, Is Now Near, Among All People.

It Is The Heart Always That Sees, Before The Head Can See.

I Do Not Believe In The Collective Wisdom Of Individual Ignorance.