I Suspect The Fault...is In Me: That

One Thing I Feel Is This: That A Great Deal Of Poetry Is The Product Of Adolescence-or Of An Emotionally Adolescent Frame Of Mind: And That As This State Of Mind Changes, Poetry Is Likely To Dry Up.

As Small, Quick, Foolproof Cameras Became Generally Available, Moreover, The Camera Has Been Used So Much And So Flabbily By So Many People That It Has Acted As A Sort Of Contraceptive On The Ability To See.

Truth Lies Within A Little And Certain Compass, But Error Is Immense.

The Camera Seems To Me, Next To Unassisted And Weaponless Consciousness, The Central Instrument Of Our Time.

Understanding, And Action Proceeding From Understanding And Guided By It, Is One Weapon Against The World's Bombardment, The One Medicine, The One Instrument By Which Liberty, Health, And Joy May Be Shaped . . . In The Individual, And In The Race.