Mournful And Yet Grand Is The Destiny

My Mind And Fingers Have Worked Like The Damned. Homer, The Bible, Plato, Locke, Lamartine, Chateaubriand, Beethoven, Bach, Hummel, Mozart, Weber Are All Around Me. I Study Them. I Devour Them With Fury.

As For Famous Men Who Were Not Artists, I Am Beginning To Be Tired Of Them. Those Poor Little Scoundrels Who Are Called Great Men Fill Me With Nothing But Overwhelming Horror.

Broad Paths Are Open To Every Endeavour, And A Sympathetic Recognition Is Assured To Every One Who Consecrates His Art To The Divine Services Of A Conviction Of A Consciousness.

In Life One Must Decide Whether To Conjugate The Verb To Have Or The Verb To Be.

Truth Is A Great Flirt.