By The Time I Was 9, I

Writing, At Least A Craft And At Its Best An Art, Aspiring To The Unique, Is The Most Difficult To Learn.

Of True Knowledge At Any Time, A Good Part Is Merely Convenient, Necessary Indeed To The Worker, But Not To An Understanding Of His Subject: One Can Judge A Building Without Knowing Where To Buy The Bricks; One Can Understand A Violin Sonata Without Knowing How To Score For The Instrument. The Work May In Fact Be Better Understood Without A Knowledge Of The Details Of Its Manufacture, Of Attention To These Tends To Distract From Meaning And Effect.

The Reason Why Research Is Like Sculpting From Memory Is That In Neither Is There A Concrete Visible Subject To Copy Directly. The Subject - As Sculptors Themselves Are Fond Of Saying - Is Hidden In The Block Of Material.

Look For All Fancy Wordings And Get Rid Of Themavoid All Terms And Expressions, Old Or New, That Embody Affectation.

By The Time I Was 9, I Had The Conviction That Everybody In The World Was An Artist Except Plumbers Or People Who Delivered Groceries.