No-one Was Ever Made Wretched In A

When We Have Ceased To Love The Stench Of The Human Animal, Either In Others Or In Ourselves, Then Are We Condemned To Misery, And Clear Thinking Can Begin.

Today The Function Of The Artist Is To Bring Imagination To Science And Science To Imagination, Where They Meet, In The Myth.

Always Be Nice To Those Younger Than You, Because They Are The Ones Who Will Be Writing About You.

The Artist One Day Falls Through A Hole In The Brambles, And From That Moment He Is Following The Dark Rapids Of An Underground River Which May Sometimes Flow So Near To The Surface That The Laughing Picnic Parties Are Heard Above.

The Only Happy Talkers Are Dandies Who Extract Pleasure From The Very Perishability Of Their Material And Who Would Not Be Able To Tolerate The Isolation Of All Other Forms Of Composition; For Most Good Talkers, When They Have Run Down, Are Miserable; They Know That They Have Betrayed Themselves, That They Have Taken Material Which Should Have A Life Of Its Own, To Dispense It In Noises Upon The Air.