“That’s the sole originality we need. A story might have been told before, but you haven’t told it. Every idea might have been thought, but each is new again when you think them. And that lumberman’s son? He couldn’t fail. Because I was to be the judge of his poem, and I deeply, sincerely believe that every person is unique. The contest wasn’t about whether his poem was good, merely if it was unique. He could have stood up, released an odoriferous belch, then sat down, and I’d have considered that acceptable. He was destined to win.”
