The Mystique Of The Femme Fatale Cannot

Even The Best Critical Writing On Emily Dickinson Underestimates Her. She Is Frightening. To Come To Her Directly From Dante, Spenser, Blake, And Baudelaire Is To Find Her Sadomasochism Obvious And Flagrant. Birds, Bees, And Amputated Hands Are The Dizzy Stuff Of This Poetry. Dickinson Is Like The Homosexual Cultist Draping Himself In Black Leather And Chains To Bring The Idea Of Masculinity Into Aggressive Visibility.

Leaving Sex To The Feminists Is Like Letting Your Dog Vacation At The Taxidermist.

If Civilization Had Been Left In Female Hands We Would Still Be Living In Grass Huts.

The Venerable Emeritus Professors Still At Yale When I Entered Graduate School [in The 1960s] May Have Been Reserved, Puritanical Wasps, But They Were Men Of Honor Who Had Given Their Lives To Scholarship. Today In The Elite Schools, Honor And Ethics Are Gone.

My Generation Of The Sixties, With All Our Great Ideals, Destroyed Liberalism, Because Of Our Excesses.