Art Is A Magic Which Makes The

We Went Down Into The Silent Garden. Dawn Is The Time When Nothing Breathes, The Hour Of Silence. Everything Is Transfixed, Only The Light Moves.

Military People Never Seem To Apologize For Killing Each Other Yet Novelists Feel Ashamed For Writing Some Nice Inert Paper Book That Is Not Certain To Be Read By Anybody.

Thousands Of People Know My Flannel Knickers, And Though I Know This May Seem Flirtatious, It Is Not. I Am A Saint.

Reason Must Know The Heart's Reasons And Every Other Reason

Art Is A Magic Which Makes The Hours Melt Away And Even Days Dissolve Into Seconds