A Writer Is Somebody For Whom Writing

What Pleases The Public Is Lively And Vivid Delineation Which Makes No Demands On The Intellect; But Passionate And Absolutist Youth Can Only Be Enthralled By A Problem.

One Must Die To Life In Order To Be Utterly A Creator.

There Were Profound Reasons For His Attachment To The Sea: He Loved It Because As A Hardworking Artist He Needed Rest, Needed To Escape From The Demanding Complexity Of Phenomena And Lie Hidden On The Bosom Of The Simple And Tremendous; Because Of A Forbidden Longing Deep Within Him That Ran Quite Contrary To His Life's Task And Was For That Very Reason Seductive, A Longing For The Unarticulated And Immeasurable, For Eternity, For Nothingness. To Rest In The Arms Of Perfection Is The Desire Of Any Man Intent Upon Creating Excellence; And Is Not Nothingness A Form Of Perfection?

Animals Do Not Admire Each Other. A Horse Does Not Admire Its Companion.

One Has The Idea Of A Stupid Man As Perfectly Healthy And Ordinary, And Of Illness As Making One Refined And Clever And Unusual.