Rhythm is one of the principal translators between dream and reality.

Still falls the rain - dark as the world of man, black as our loss - blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails upon the Cross.

If certain critics and poetasters had their way, 'Ordinary Piety' and its child, Dullness, would be the masters of poetry.

Vulgarity is, in reality, nothing but a modern, chic, pert descendant of the goddess Dullness.

Poetry ennobles the heart and the eyes, and unveils the meaning of all things upon which the heart and the eyes dwell. It discovers the secret rays of the universe, and restores to us forgotten paradises.

It is hardly respectable to be good nowadays.

Art is magic, not logic. This craze for the logical spirit in irrational shape is part of the present harmful mania for uniformity.