Piety Is The Fermentation Of The Forming

The Plot! The Plot! What Kind Of Plot Could A Poet Possibly Provide That Is Not Surpassed By The Thinking, Feeling Reader? Form Alone Is Divine.

Those Who Want To Row On The Ocean Of Human Knowledge Do Not Get Far, And The Storm Drives Those Out Of Their Course Who Set Sail.

I Love The Pride Whose Measure Is Its Own Eminence And Not The Insignificance Of Someone Else.

No Shortcomings Of Other People Cause Us To Be More Intolerant Than Those Which Are Caricatures Of Our Own.

Today Is, After All, Today, But Yesterday Is Of The Same Substance As Tomorrow.