There Is Room Neither For

The Poet Knows Himself Only On The Condition That Things Resound In Him, And That In Him, At A Single Awakening, They And He Come Forth Together Out Of Sleep.

There Is Room Neither For The Poet Nor For The Contemplator In An Egalitarian World.

A Single Idea, If It Is Right, Saves Us The Labor Of An Infinity Of Experiences.

God's Love Causes The Beauty Of What He Loves, Our Love Is Caused By The Beauty Of What We Love.

Everywhere In The World The Industrial Regime Tends To Make The Unorganized Or Unorganizable Individual, The Pauper, Into The Victim Of A Kind Of Human Sacrifice Offered To The Gods Of Civilization.