No One Yet Has Managed To Be

To Be A Poet Did Not Occur To Me. It Was Indeed A Threshold Guarded By Demons.

In The Finest Critics One Hears The Full Cry Of The Human. They Tell One Why It Matters To Read.

We Read, Frequently If Not Unknowingly, In Search Of A Mind More Original Than Our Own.

I Don't Believe In Myths Of Decline Or Myths Of Progress, Even As Regards The Literary Scene.

Aesthetic Value Emanates From The Struggle Between Texts: In The Reader, In Language, In The Classroom, In Arguments Within A Society. Aesthetic Value Rises Out Of Memory, And So (as Nietzsche Saw) Out Of Pain, The Pain Of Surrendering Easier Pleasures In Favour Of Much More Difficult Ones ... Successful Literary Works Are Achieved Anxieties, Not Releases From Anxieties.