All Dams Are Ugly, But

Of All The Featherless Beasts, Only Man, Chained By His Self-imposed Slavery To The Clock, Denies The Elemental Fire And Proceeds As Best He Can About His Business, Suffering Quietly, Martyr To His Madness. Much To Learn.

In The Modern World, All Literary Art Is Necessarily Political -- Especially That Which Pretends Not To Be.

Belief? What Do I Believe In? I Believe In Sun. In Rock. In The Dogma Of The Sun And The Doctrine Of The Rock. I Believe In Blood, Fire, Woman, Rivers, Eagles, Storm, Drums, Flutes, Banjos, And Broom-tailed Horses.

Every Important Change In Our Society, For The Good, At Least, Has Taken Place Because Of Popular Pressure-pressure From Below, From The Great Mass Of People.

A Critic Is To An Author As A Fungus To An Oak.