Back Of Every Creation, Supporting

If The Poet Can No Longer Speak For Society, But Only For Himself, Then We Are At The Last Ditch.

Confusion Is A Word We Have Invented For An Order Which Is Not Understood.

It Is Our Destiny To Live With The Wrong As Well As The Right Kind Of Citizens, And To Learn From Them, The Wrong-minded Ones, As Much Or More As From Others. If We Have Not Yet Succeeded -after How Many Centuries?- In Eliminating From Life The Elements Which Plague Us Perhaps We Need To Question Life More Closely. Perhaps Our Refusal To Face Reality Is The Only Ill We Suffer From, And All The Rest But Illusion And Delusion. (p.26)

How Different The New Order Would Be If We Could Consult The Veteran Instead Of The Politician.

Paint What You Like And Die Happy