A fool's brain digests philosophy into folly, science into superstition, and art into pedantry. Hence University education.

A fool's brain digests philosophy into folly, science into superstition, and art into pedantry. Hence University education.

Nothing but blackness aboveAnd nothing that moves but the cars...God, if you wish for our love,Fling us a handful of read more

Nothing but blackness aboveAnd nothing that moves but the cars...God, if you wish for our love,Fling us a handful of stars! - Caliban in the Coal Mines.

If you look at history you'll find that no state has been so plagued by its rulers as when power read more

If you look at history you'll find that no state has been so plagued by its rulers as when power has fallen into the hands of some dabbler in philosophy or literary addict.

I can find my biography in every fable that I read.

I can find my biography in every fable that I read.

The walls are the publishers of the poor.

The walls are the publishers of the poor.

If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no read more

If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no other choice. Failing this duty, he sinks into oblivion. Society, on the other hand, has no obligation toward the poet. A majority by definition, society thinks of itself as having other options than reading verses, no matter how well written. Its failure to do so results in its sinking to that level of locution at which society falls easy prey to a demagogue or a tyrant. This is society's own equivalent of oblivion.

When I give a lecture, I accept that people look at their watches, but what I do not tolerate is read more

When I give a lecture, I accept that people look at their watches, but what I do not tolerate is when they look at it and raise it to their ear to find out if it stopped.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he read more

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! - Destruction of Sennacherib, The.

For me, literature is a complex game, both mental and concrete, which is acted out in a physical manner on read more

For me, literature is a complex game, both mental and concrete, which is acted out in a physical manner on the page.rn