I learned to love the feel of good words.
I loved the sound of the words, even if I was not entirely sure what all of them meant.
You have to fall in love with hanging around words.
A special kind of beauty exists which is born in language, of language, and for language.
The poetry of speech.
But the gravest difficulty, and perhaps the most important, in poetry meant solely for recitation, is the difficulty of achieving verbal beauty, or rather of making verbal beauty tell.
There is one thing that matters, to set a chime of words tinkling in the minds of a few fastidious people.
The lines of poetry, the period of prose, and even the texts of Scripture most frequently recollected and quoted, are those which are felt to be preeminently musical.
I like, you may say, the glitter and colour that comes from the mouth, and I've always hoped in a sense to be able to paint the mouth like Monet painted a sunset.
