Children Read Books, Not Reviews. They Don't

While The Poet Entertains He Continues To Search For Eternal Truths, For The Essence Of Being. In His Own Fashion He Tries To Solve The Riddle Of Time And Change, To Find An Answer To Suffering, To Reveal Love In The Very Abyss Of Cruelty And Injustice. Strange As These Words May Sound I Often Play With The Idea That When All The Social Theories Collapse And Wars And Revolutions Leave Humanity In Utter Gloom, The Poet--whom Plato Banned From His Republic--may Rise Up To Save Us All.

If You Keep On Saying Things Are Going To Be Bad, You Have A Good Chance Of Being A Prophet... [at Least For Your Own Situation. Blind Optimism Is Just As Foolish. The Solution Is A Rigorously Balanced, Rational Outlook.]

The New England Conscience Doesn't Keep You From Doing What You Shouldn't - It Just Keeps You From Enjoying It.

In Our Time, When The Literature For Adults Is Deteriorating, Good Books For Children Are The Only Hope, The Only Refuge.

What Do They Know-all These Scholars, All These Philosophers, All The Leaders Of The World - About Such As You? They Have Convinced Themselves That Man, The Worst Transgressor Of All The Species, Is The Crown Of Creation. All Other Creatures Were Created Merely To Provide Him With Food, Pelts, To Be Tormented, Exterminated. In Relation To Them, All People Are Nazis; For The Animals It Is An Eternal Treblinka.