Poets are interested in events “que circa curiam gesta sunt,” meaning they are concerned only with what happens in the court and among the elite.

When the tyrant Kings of Sicily wanted to vent their rage, they had poets executed, beginning with the most celebrated. This was to the credit of the Kings.

It’s true that poets suffer “Theutonicus furor,” which is the pillaging of their sensibilities through other styles.

Poets who are miserly at giving praise are generally gluttonous about receiving it.

A poem is a golden honeycomb.

The critic is he whose “culus tibi purior salillo est/ whose ass is purer than a saltcellar… (The rest has been lost).

The only way to be a poet is to kick poetry to death (or “to kick a poet to death.”) The original text has been destroyed).

Poets who publish other poets have a sense of entitlement.

It was said that at the court of William the Wicked, a Muslim poet read poetry of such beauty and depth that all eyes glistened with tears, though not a word of praise was spoken.