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As I was going up the stairI met a man who wasn't thereHe wasn't there again todayI wish, I wish read more
As I was going up the stairI met a man who wasn't thereHe wasn't there again todayI wish, I wish he'd stay away. - The Psychoed.
Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.
Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.
Do not worry about the incarnation of ideas. If you are a poet, your works will contain them without your read more
Do not worry about the incarnation of ideas. If you are a poet, your works will contain them without your knowledge -- they will be both moral and national if you follow your inspiration freely.
But, indeed, we prefer books to pounds; and we love manuscripts
better than florins; and we prefer small pamphlets read more
But, indeed, we prefer books to pounds; and we love manuscripts
better than florins; and we prefer small pamphlets to war horses.
Education is what survives when what has been learned has been forgotten.
Education is what survives when what has been learned has been forgotten.
University politics are vicious precisely because the stakes are so small.
University politics are vicious precisely because the stakes are so small.
You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the read more
You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming! Here, you stand, good folk, think I, when I see them at Ellis Island, here you stand in your fifty groups, with your fifty languages and histories, and your fifty blood hatreds and rivalries... - Melting Pot, The.
I dare say I am compelled, unconsciously compelled, now to write volume after volume, as in past years I was read more
I dare say I am compelled, unconsciously compelled, now to write volume after volume, as in past years I was compelled to go to sea, voyage after voyage. Leaves must follow upon each other as leagues used to follow in the days gone by, on and on to the appointed end, which, being truth itself, is one -- one for all men and for all occupations.
