A man will not roll in the snow for a stream of tendency by which all things fulfill the law of their being. He will not go without food in the name of something, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness. He will do things like this, or pretty nearly like this, under quite a different impulse. He will do these things when he is in love.
There are people who think that honesty is always the best policy. This is a superstition. There are times when the appearance of it is worth six of it.
Poets should be law-givers; that is, the boldest lyric inspiration should not chide and insult, but should announce and lead the civil code, and the day's work.
Has anyone...any distinct notion of what poets of a stronger age understood by the word inspiration? ... There is an ecstasy such that the immese strain of it is sometimes relaxed by a flood of tears, along with which one's steps either rush or involuntarily lag, alternately. There is the feeling that one is completely out of hand, with the very distinct consciousness of an endless number of fine thrills and quiverings to the very toes... Everything happens quite involuntarily, as if in a tempestuous outburst of freedom, of absoluteness, of power and divinity.
"You Believe In A Book That Has Talking Animals, Wizards, Witches, Demons, Sticks Turning Into Snakes, Burning Bushes, Food Falling From The Sky, People Walking On Water, And All Sorts Of Magical, Absurd And Primitive Stories, And You Say That We Are The Ones That Need Help?"