James Stephens (author) (1880 – 1950)
Irish novelist, broadcaster and poet, now best known for his fantasy novel The Crock of Gold.
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If I asked her master he'd give me a cask a day;
But she, with the beer at hand, not a gill would arrange!
May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten, and may
The High King of Glory permit her to get the mange.
Because our lives are cowardly and sly,
Because we do not dare to take or give,
Because we scowl and pass each other by,
We do not live; we do not dare to live.
Curiosity will conquer fear even more than bravery will.
Finality is death. Perfection is finality. Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it.
The duty of a lyrical poet is not to express or explain, it is to intensify life.
I would think
Until I found
Something
I can never find;
– Something
Lying
On the ground,
In the bottom
Of my mind.
Speech and prose are not the same thing. They have different wave-lengths, for speech moves at the speed of light, where prose moves at the speed of the alphabet, and must be consecutive and grammatical and word-perfect. Prose cannot gesticulate. Speech can sometimes do nothing else.
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