It Is Not My Purpose As A

Sentir Mon Cœur Is A Privilege Only Granted To The Exceptional Man - The One Who Has The Ability To Find Words That Exactly (or, To Himself, Convincingly) Express His Feelings... The Value Of Words Help To Define The Feeling Itself... The Common Failure Is To Allow Habitual Words And Phrases, Flowing Spontaneously From The Memory, To Determine And Deform The Feelings.

The Only Sin Is Ugliness, And If We Believed This With All Our Being, All Other Activities Of The Human Spirit Could Be Left To Take Care Of Themselves.

Once We Become Conscious Of A Feeling And Attempt To Make A Corresponding Form, We Are Engaged In An Activity Which, Far From Being Sincere, Is Prepared (as Any Artist If He Is Sincere Will Tell You) To Moderate Feelings To Fit The Form. The Artist's Feeling For Form Is Stronger Than A Formless Feeling.

The Point I Am Making Is That In The More Primitive Forms Of Society The Individual Is Merely A Unit; In More Developed Forms Of Society He Is An Independent Personality.

The Sense Of Historical Continuity, And A Feeling For Philosophical Rectitude Cannot, However, Be Compromised.