If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no read more

If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no other choice. Failing this duty, he sinks into oblivion. Society, on the other hand, has no obligation toward the poet. A majority by definition, society thinks of itself as having other options than reading verses, no matter how well written. Its failure to do so results in its sinking to that level of locution at which society falls easy prey to a demagogue or a tyrant. This is society's own equivalent of oblivion.

To provoke dreams of terror in the slumber of prosperity has become the moral duty of literature.

To provoke dreams of terror in the slumber of prosperity has become the moral duty of literature.

Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.

Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.

Just as it is true that a stream cannot rise above its source, so it is true that a national read more

Just as it is true that a stream cannot rise above its source, so it is true that a national literature cannot rise above the moral level of the social conditions of the people from whom it derives its inspiration.

Some people talk in their sleep. Lecturers talk while other people sleep.

Some people talk in their sleep. Lecturers talk while other people sleep.

Teaching is not a lost art, but the regard for it is a losttradition.

Teaching is not a lost art, but the regard for it is a losttradition.

There is no real teacher who in practice does not believe in the existence of the soul, or in a read more

There is no real teacher who in practice does not believe in the existence of the soul, or in a magic that acts on it through speech.

'Humph!' grunted Mr. Romford, seeing his worst fears about to be realized. He had dreamt that he had timbled over read more

'Humph!' grunted Mr. Romford, seeing his worst fears about to be realized. He had dreamt that he had timbled over a poodle in the drawing-room, and squirted a bottle of porter right into a lady's face. 'Who's goin' besides ourselves?' asked Romford, wishing to know the worst at once. 'Better be killed than frightened to death,' thought he. - Mr. Facey Romford's Hounds.

Universities incline wits to sophistry and affectation.

Universities incline wits to sophistry and affectation.