Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.

...in a time lacking in truth and certainty and filled with anguish and despair, no woman should be shamefaced in attempting to give back to the world, through her work, a portion of its lost heart.

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

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.

I'll lie here and learn How, over their ground, Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.

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

The intellectual is a middle-class product; if he is not born into the class he must soon insert himself into it, in order to exist. He is the fine nervous flower of the bourgeoisie.