I am an anarchist in politics and an impressionist in art as well as a symbolist in literature. Not that I understand what these terms mean but I take them to be all merely synonyms of pessimist.
Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds in wheels shoot long and lovely and lush Thrush's eggs look little low heavens and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear it strikes like lightning to hear him sing.
