A poet's words are of things that do not exist without the words.

God is in me or else is not at all.

We live in an old chaos of the sun.

So, too, if, to our surprise, we should meet one of these morons whose remarks are so conspicuous a part of the folklore of the world of the radio--remarks made without using either the tongue or the brain, spouted much like the spoutings of small whales--we should recognize him as below the level of nature but not as below the level of the imagination.

Imagination is the will of things. . . .

Nothing could be more inappropriate to American literature than its English source since the Americans are not British in sensibility.

Death is the mother of Beauty; hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.