Ignorance is not innocence but sin.
Poetry, like love, is something we never truly say goodbye to.
Shakespeare was of us, Milton was of us, Burns, Shelley, were with us. They watch from their graves!
"With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart" once more! Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare he!
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
The curious crime, the fine Felicity and flower of wickedness.