"Pity him, Shirley? What can I do else? He was nearly broken-hearted when he wrote that poem, and it almost breaks one's heart to read it. But he found relief in writing it--I know he did; and that gift of poetry--the most divine bestowed on man--was, I believe, granted to allay emotions when their strength threatens harm. It seems to me, Shirley, that nobody should write poetry to exhibit intellect or attainment. Who cares for that sort of poetry? Who cares for learning--who cares for fine words in poetry? And who does not care for feeling--real feeling--however simply, even rudely expressed?"

"Poor man: he was nearly broken-hearted when he wrote that poem, and it almost breaks one's heart to read it. But he found relief in writing it - I know he did. It seems to me, Shirley, that nobody should write poetry to show off intellect. Who cares for that sort of poetry? And who does not care for real feeling?"
