Jealousy Is The Most Dreadfully Involuntary Of

Literature Could Be Said To Be A Sort Of Disciplined Technique For Arousing Certain Emotions.

There Is Nothing Like The Bootless Solitude Of Those Who Are Caged Together.

Time Can Divorce Us From The Reality Of People, It Can Separate Us From People And Turn Them Into Ghosts. Or Rather It Is We Who Turn Them Into Ghosts Or Demons. Some Kinds Of Fruitless Preoccupations With The Past Can Create Such Simulacra, And They Can Exercise Power, Like Those Heroes At Troy Fighting For A Phantom Helen.

Actors Are Cave Dwellers In A Rich Darkness Which They Love And Hate.

Art And Morality Are, With Certain Provisos…one. Their Essence Is The Same. The Essence Of Both Of Them Is Love. Love Is The Perception Of Individuals. Love Is The Extremely Difficult Realization That Something Other Than Oneself Is Real. Love, And So Art And Morals, Is The Discovery Of Reality.