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

At midnight tears Run into your ears.

It is almost impossible for the poetess, once laurelled, to take off the crown for good or to reject values and taste of those who tender it.

It is through the acceptance of a variety of aethetic and intellectual points of view that a culture is given breadth and density.

The poem is always the last resort. In it the poet makes a world in little, and finds peace, even though, under complete focused emotion, the evocation be far more bitter than reality, or far more lovely.

Hate does not present many choices; if hate is your solution, you are fairly certain to hate all phemonena with equal joy and intensity, without troubling to drag into prominence any one feature from the loathsome whole.

But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.