W.B.Yeats, ‘Anima Hominis’ (1918)

“We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry. Unlike rhetoricians, who get a confident voice from remembering the crowd they have won or may win, we sing amid our uncertainty; and, smitten even in the presence of the most high beauty by the knowledge of our solitude, our rhythm shudders.”

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