Love is the natural occupation of the man of leisure.
If the poet has pursued a moral objective, he has diminished his poetic force.
To glorify the cult of images (my great, my only, my earliest passion).
There can be no progress-real, moral prgress-except in the individual and by the individual himself.
There are as many kinds of beauty as there are habitual ways of seeking happiness.
We revel in the laxness of the path we take.