Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.
As it is generally seen, blank verse seems to be only a laborious and doubtful struggle to escape from the fangs of prose. [...] if it ever ventures to relax into simple and natural phraseology, it instantly becomes tame and the prey of its pursuer.
I speak of peace, therefore, as the necessary rational end of rational men. I realize that the pursuit of peace is not as dramatic as the pursuit of war and frequently the words of the pursuer fall on deaf ears. But we have no more urgent task.
You think that you are Ann's suitor; that you are the pursuer and she the pursued? Fool: it is you who are pursued, the marked down quarry, the destined prey.George Bernard Shaw
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