I Cling Unto The Burning Æthyr Like

All Phenomena Of Which We Are Aware Take Place In Our Own Minds, And Therefore The Only Thing We Have To Look At Is The Mind; Which Is A More Constant Quantity Over All The Species Of Humanity Than Is Generally Supposed.

I Was Not Content To Just Believe In Satan. I Wanted To Be His Chief Or Staff.

This Complaining Rambling Rubbish Is The Substitute Which Has Taken The Place Of Love.

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.

To Me, Every Dirty Act Was Simply A Sacrament Of Sin, A Passionately Religious Protest Against Christianity, Which Was For Me The Symbol Of All Vileness, Meanness, Treachery, Falsehood And Oppression.