Report, if you have a problem with this page“ The so-called poet with his vague dreams and ideals is indeed no better than a harmless lunatic; the true poet is the worker, who grips life's throat and wrings out its secret, who selects austerely and composes concisely, whose work is as true and clean as razor-steel, albeit its sweep is vaster and swifter than the sun's! ”
Aleister Crowley
From : The Psychology of Hashish: An Essay on Mysticism
