Gracefulness Is A Correct Life: Sensuality Which

Original Love Never Appears In Pure Form, But In Manifold Veils And Shapes, Such As Confidence, Humility, Reverence, Serenity, Asfaithfulness And Modesty, As Gratefulness; But Primarily As Longing And Wistful Melancholy.

The Naive Is What Is Or Appears To Be Natural, Individual, Or Classical To The Point Of Irony Or To The Point Of Continuous Alternation Of Self-creation And Self-destruction. If It Is Only Instinct, Then It Is Childlike, Childish, Or Silly; If It Is Only Intention, It Becomes Affectation.

We Do Not See God, But Everywhere We See Something Divine; First And Most Typically In The Center Of A Reasonable Man, In The Depth Of A Living Human Product. You Can Directly Feel And Think Nature, The Universe, But Not The Godhead. Only The Man Among Men Can Poetize And Think Divinely And Live With Religion.

Is It Not Superfluous To Write More Than One Novel If The Writer Has Not Become, Say, A New Man? Obviously, All The Novels Of An Author Not Infrequently Belong Together And Are To A Certain Degree Only One Novel.

It Is Peculiar To Mankind To Transcend Mankind.