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If Poets Often Commit Suicide, It Is Not Because Their Poems Are Bad But Because They Are Good. Whoever Heard Of A Bad Poet Committing Suicide? The Reader Is Only A Little Better Off. The Exhilaration Of A Good Poem Lasts Twenty Minutes, An Hour At Most. Unlike The Scientist, The Artist Has Reentry Problems That Are Frequent And Catastrophic.

-Walker Percy

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If Poets Often Commit

Walker Percy

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If Poets Often Commit Suicide, It Is Not Because Their Poems Are Bad But Because They Are Good. Whoever Heard Of A Bad Poet Committing Suicide? The Reader Is Only A Little Better Off. The Exhilaration Of A Good Poem Lasts Twenty Minutes, An Hour At Most. Unlike The Scientist, The Artist Has Reentry Problems That Are Frequent And Catastrophic.

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If Poets Often Commit Suicide, It Is Not Because Their Poems Are Bad But Because They Are Good. Whoever Heard Of A Bad Poet Committing Suicide? The Reader Is Only A Little Better Off. The Exhilaration Of A Good Poem Lasts Twenty Minutes, An Hour At Most. Unlike The Scientist, The Artist Has Reentry Problems That Are Frequent And Catastrophic.

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The Conviction: I Will Not Tolerate This Age. The Freedom: The Freedom To Act On My Conviction. And I Will Act. No One Else Has Both The Conviction And The Freedom. Many Agree With Me, Have The Conviction, But Will Not Act. Some Act, Assassinate, Bomb, Burn, Etc., But They Are The Crazies. Crazy Acts By Crazy People. But What If One, Sober, Reasonable, And Honorable Man Should Act, And Act With Perfect Sobriety, Reason, And Honor? Then You Have The Beginning Of A New Age. We Shall Start A New Order Of Things.

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Knowing The Truth

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We Love Those Who Know The Worst Of Us And Don't Turn Their Face Away.

In This World Goodness Is Destined To Be Defeated. But A Man Must Go Down Fighting. That Is The Victory. To Do Anything Less Is To Be Less Than A Man.

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Fiction Doesn’t Tell Us Something We Don’t Know, It Tells Us Something We Know But Don’t Know That We Know.

To Become Aware Of The Possibility Of The Search Is To Be Onto Something.

The Difference Between A Non-suicide And An Ex-suicide Leaving The House For Work, At Eight O'clock On An Ordinary Morning: The Non-suicide Is A Little Traveling Suck Of Care, Sucking Care With Him From The Past And Being Sucked Toward Care In The Future. His Breath Is High In His Chest. The Ex-suicide Opens His Front Door, Sits Down On The Steps, And Laughs. Since He Has The Option Of Being Dead, He Has Nothing To Lose By Being Alive. It Is Good To Be Alive. He Goes To Work Because He Doesn't Have To.

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Old Neighborhood

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Small Disconnected Facts, If You Take Note Of Them, Have A Way Of Becoming Connected.

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