If we can't be cordial to these creatures' fleece, I think that we deserve to freeze.
I believe verbal felicity is the fruit of ardor, of diligence, and of refusing to be false.
If technique is of no interest to a writer, I doubt that the writer is an artist.
In a poem the words should be as pleasing to the ear as the meaning is to the mind.
The heart that gives, gathers.
Only imagination that towers can reproduce evanescence and render rigidity flexible.