The twilight is long fingers and black hair.
For some reason most critics have a hard time fixing their minds directly under their noses, and before they see the object that is there they use a telescope upon the horizon to see where it came from.
Poets, in their way, are practical men; they are interested in results.
Genetic theories, I gather, have been cherished academically with detachment.
The only real evidence that any critic may bring before his gaze is the finished poem.
Experience means conflict, our natures being what they are, and conflict means drama.