Prose Books Are The Show

The Function Of Poetry Is Religious Invocation Of The Muse; Its Use Is The Experience Of Mixed Exaltation And Horror That Her Presence Excites.

Though Philosophers Like To Define Poetry As Irrational Fancy, For Us It Is Practical, Humorous, Reasonable Way Of Being Ourselves.

Strawberries That In Gardens Grow Are Plump And Juicy Fine, But Sweeter Far As Wise Men Know Spring From The Woodland Vine. No Need For Bowl Or Silver Spoon, Sugar Or Spice Or Cream, Has The Wild Berry Plucked In June Beside The Trickling Stream. One Such To Melt At The Tongue's Root, Confounding Taste With Scent, Beats A Full Peck Of Garden Fruit: Which Points My Argument.

The Decline Of True Taste For Food Is The Beginning Of A Decline In A National Culture As A Whole. When People Have Lost Their Authentic Personal Taste, They Lose Their Personality And Become The Instruments Of Other People's Wills.

When The Immense Drugged Universe Explodes In A Cascade Of Unendurable Colour And Leaves Us Gasping Naked, This Is No More Than The Ectasy Of Chaos: Hold Fast, With Both Hands, To That Royal Love Which Alone, As We Know Certainly, Restores Fragmentation Into True Being. Ecstasy Of Chaos