Oh, How Superior Is The Eye Of

If You Examine The Highest Poetry In The Light Of Common Sense, You Can Only Say That It Is Rubbish; And In Actual Fact You Cannot So Examine It At All, Because There Is Something In Poetry Which Is Not In The Words Themselves, Which Is Not In The Images Suggested By The Words 'o Windy Star Blown Sideways Up The Sky!' True Poetry Is Itself A Magic Spell Which Is A Key To The Ineffable.

It Is Only Necessary To Destroy In Oneself The Roots Of Those Motives Which Determine A Man's Course, In Order To Enjoy The Omnipotence And Immunity Of A God.

I Did Not Hate God Or Christ, But Merely The God And Christ Of The People Whom I Hated.

I Hardly Ever Talk- Words Seem Such A Waste, And They Are None Of Them True. No One Has Yet Invented A Language From My Point Of View.

May The New Year Bring You Courage To Break Your Resolutions Early!