Properly Speaking, All True Work

The True Epic Of Our Times Is Not "arm's And The Man," But "tools And The Man"--an Infinitely Wider Kind Of Epic.

There Is Something In Man Which Your Science Cannot Satisfy.

Silence Is The Element In Which Great Things Fashion Themselves Together.

The World Is A Republic Of Mediocrities, And Always Was.

We Have Our Little Theory On All Human And Divine Things. Poetry, The Workings Of Genius Itself, Which, In All Times, With One Or Another Meaning, Has Been Called Inspiration, And Held To Be Mysterious And Inscrutable, Is No Longer Without Its Scientific Exposition. The Building Of The Lofty Rhyme Is Like Any Other Masonry Or Bricklaying: We Have Theories Of Its Rise, Height, Decline And Fall -- Which Latter, It Would Seem, Is Now Near, Among All People.