"You Believe In A Book That Has Talking Animals, Wizards, Witches, Demons, Sticks Turning Into Snakes, Burning Bushes, Food Falling From The Sky, People Walking On Water, And All Sorts Of Magical, Absurd And Primitive Stories, And You Say That We Are The Ones That Need Help?"
Has anyone...any distinct notion of what poets of a stronger age understood by the word inspiration? ... There is an ecstasy such that the immese strain of it is sometimes relaxed by a flood of tears, along with which one's steps either rush or involuntarily lag, alternately. There is the feeling that one is completely out of hand, with the very distinct consciousness of an endless number of fine thrills and quiverings to the very toes... Everything happens quite involuntarily, as if in a tempestuous outburst of freedom, of absoluteness, of power and divinity.