Don't You Know That Every Perfect Life

... The Structure Of A Page Of Good Prose Is, Analyzed Logically, Not Something Frozen But The Vibrating Of A Bridge, Which Changes With Every Step One Takes On It.

[...] A Number Of Flawed Individuals Can Often Add Up To A Brilliant Social Unit.

A Man Who Wants The Truth Becomes A Scientist; A Man Who Wants To Give Free Play To His Subjectivity May Become A Writer; But What Should A Man Do Who Wants Something In Between?

Hardly Anyone Still Reads Nowadays. People Make Use Of The Writer Only In Order To Work Off Their Own Excess Energy On Him In A Perverse Manner, In The Form Of Agreement Or Disagreement.

Clothes, When Abstracted From The Flow Of Present Time And Their Transmogrifying Function On The Human Body, And Seen As Forms In Themselves, Are Strange Tubes And Excrescences Worthy Of Being Classed With Such Facial Decorations As The Ring Through The Nose Or The Lip-stretching Disk. But How Enchanting They Become When Seen Togetherwith The Qualities They Bestow On Their Wearer! What Happens Then Is No Less Than The Infusion, Into Some Tangled Lines On A Piece Of Paper, Of The Meaning Of A Great Word.