Truth! Truth! Truth! Crieth The

The Eternal Mistake Of Mankind Is To Set Up An Attainable Ideal.

If You Examine The Highest Poetry In The Light Of Common Sense, You Can Only Say That It Is Rubbish; And In Actual Fact You Cannot So Examine It At All, Because There Is Something In Poetry Which Is Not In The Words Themselves, Which Is Not In The Images Suggested By The Words 'o Windy Star Blown Sideways Up The Sky!' True Poetry Is Itself A Magic Spell Which Is A Key To The Ineffable.

Paganism Is Wholesome Because It Faces The Facts Of Life.

I Am The Blue-lidded Daughter Of Sunset; I Am The Naked Brilliance Of The Voluptuous Night-sky.

Every One Interprets Everything In Terms Of His Own Experience. If You Say Anything Which Does Not Touch A Precisely Similar Spot In Another Man's Brain, He Either Misunderstands You, Or Doesn't Understand You At All.