The Hands Are The Heart's

Not Till The Poets Among Us Can Be "literalists Of The Imagination"-above Insolence And Triviality And Can Present For Inspection, "imaginary Gardens With Real Toads In Them." Shall We Have It.

Everything I Have Written Is The Result Of Reading Or Of Interest In People.

... Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads In Them ... ... If You Demand On One Hand, The Raw Material Of Poetry In All Its Rawness And That Which Is On The Other Hand Genuine, Then You Are Interested In Poetry.

I'm Troubled. I'm Dissatisfied. I'm Irish.

Only Imagination That Towers Can Reproduce Evanescence And Render Rigidity Flexible.