Writing Is Busy Idleness.

It Is Not Always Needful For Truth To Take A Definite Shape; It Is Enough If It Hovers About Us Like A Spirit And Produces Harmony; If It Is Wafted Through The Air Like The Sound Of A Bell, Grave And Kindly.

Desire Is The Presentiment Of Our Inner Abilities, And The Forerunner Of Our Ultimate Accomplishments.

Words Are Good, But There Is Something Better. The Best Cannot Be Explained By Words. The Spirit In Which We Act Is The Chief Matter. Action Can Only Be Only Understood And Represented By The Spirit.

Gray Is The Color Of All Theory

After All, Poets Shouldn't Be Their Own Interpreters And Shouldn't Carefully Dissect Their Poems Into Everyday Prose; That Would Mean The End Of Being Poets. Poets Send Their Creations Into The World, It Is Up To The Reader, The Aesthetician, And The Critic To Determine What They Wanted To Say With Their Creations.