Humanity is the rich effluvium, it is the waste and the manure and the soil, and from it grows the tree of the arts.

Discoveries are made by gluttons and addicts. The man who forgets to eat and sleep has an appetite for fact, for interrelations among causes.

Any general statement is like a check drawn on a bank. Its value depends on what is there to meet it.

And New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. No urban night is like the night there... Squares after squares of flame, set up and cut into the aether. Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.

The primary pigment of poetry is the IMAGE.

But the one thing you should. not do is to suppose that when something is wrong with the arts, it is wrong with the arts ONLY.

The man of understanding can no more sit quiet and resigned while his country lets its literature decay, and lets good writing meet with contempt, than a good doctor could sit quiet and contented while some ignorant child was infecting itself with tuberculosis under the impression that it was merely eating jam tarts.