The fact, and the intuition or logic about the fact, are severe coordinates in fiction. In the short story they must cross with hair-line precision.

Up from the bronze, I saw Water without a flaw Rush to its rest in air Reach to its rest, and fall.

All art, in spite of the struggles of some critics to prove otherwise, is based on emotion and projects emotion.

I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering; surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy!

Poetry is often generations in advance of the thought of its time.

Because language is the carrier of ideas, it is easy to believe that it should be very little else than such a carrier.

The fact, and the intuition or logic about the fact, are severe coordinates in fiction. In the short story they must cross with hair-line precision.