'tis The White Stag, Fame,

The Man Who Fears War And Squats Opposing My Words For Stour, Hath No Blood Of Crimson But Is Fit Only To Rot In Womanish Peace

Gloom And Solemnity Are Entirely Out Of Place In Even The Most Rigorous Study Of An Art Originally Intended To Make Glad The Heart Of Man.

Properly, We Should Read For Power.

It Is Better To Present One Image In A Lifetime Than To Produce Voluminous Work. Image...that Which Presents An Intellectual And Emotional Complex In An Instant Of Time.

And New York Is The Most Beautiful City In The World? It Is Not Far From It. No Urban Night Is Like The Night There... Squares After Squares Of Flame, Set Up And Cut Into The Aether. Here Is Our Poetry, For We Have Pulled Down The Stars To Our Will.