James Vincent Cunningham (August 23, 1911 – March 30, 1985) was an American poet, literary critic and teacher.
Naked I came, naked I leave the scene
The finder of his theme will be at no loss for words.
What demon is our god? What name subsumes That act external to our sleeping selves? Not pleasure it is much too broad and narrow , Not sex, not for the moment love, but pride, And not in prowess, but pride undefined, Autonomous in its unthought demands, A bit of vanity, but mostly pride.
The writer asks himself, 'Can I think of a plot that will parallel this? Can I take this work of literature as an example of something I might produce?' Let us, then, consider literature as a productive science.
I like the trivial, vulgar and exalted.
This Humanist whom no beliefs constrained Grew so broad-minded he was scatter-brained.
Alexander B. Morrison
James P. Gray
Natalie Gulbis
Frank Watson Dyson
Mark McKinnon
Carlos E. Asay
Bertram Brockhouse
Charles R. Schwab
Harlan F. Stone
Christopher Poole
David Bly
Steven Bauer