"What is literature but the expression of moods
by the vehicle of symbol and incident?
And are there not moods which need heaven, hell, purgatory,
for their expression, no less than this dilapidated earth?
Nay, are there not moods which shall find no expression
unless there be men who dare to mix heaven, hell, purgatory,
and faeryland together...
Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize
whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear.
Everything exists, everything is true,
and the earth is only a little dust under our feet."
- W. B. Yeats