One Of The Marks Of A Great

The Cliché Is Dead Poetry. English, Being The Language Of An Imaginative Race, Abounds In Clichés, So That English Literature Is Always In Danger Of Being Poisoned By Its Own Secretions.

One Of The Marks Of A Great Poet Is That He Creates His Own Family Of Words And Teaches Them To Live Together In Harmony And To Help One Another.

One Road To Happiness Is To Cultivate Curiosity About Everything. Not Only About People But About Subjects, Not Only About The Arts But About History And Foreign Customs. Not Only About Countries And Cities, But About Plants And Animals. Not Only About Lichened Rocks And Curious Markings On The Bark Of Trees, But About Stars And Atoms. Not Only About Your Friends But About That Strange Labyrinth We Inhabit Which We Call Ourselves. Then, If We Do That, We Will Never Suffer A Moment's Boredom.

The More We Feel Sorry For Ourselves, The Less Sorry Others Will Feel For Us. People Don't Waste Their Small Store Of Sympathy On Those Who Can Provide It So Richly For Themselves.

Intellectuals Are People Who Believe That Ideas Are Of More Importance Than Values. That Is To Say, Their Own Ideas And Other People's Values.