Poetry, That Is To Say The Poetic,

The Self Does Not Realize Itself Most Fully When Self-realization Is Its Most Constant Aim.

We Are What We Were At Birth, And Each Trait Has Remained In Conformity With Earth's And With Heaven's Logic: Be The Devil's Tool, Resort To Black Magic, None Can Diverge From The Ends Which Heaven Foreordained.

If Technique Is Of No Interest To A Writer, I Doubt That The Writer Is An Artist.

Dürer Would Have Seen A Reason For Living In A Town Like This.

Only Imagination That Towers Can Reproduce Evanescence And Render Rigidity Flexible.