Sadness Is Almost Never Anything But A

To Understand Is Nothing, But To Be Understood-that Is The Problem And The Source Of Anguish. The Soul Throbs And Would Have The Other Know-but Can Not And Feels Isolated. Then Come Gestures, Words, Awkward Explanations And Material Symbols For Imponderable Outbursts Of Feeling-and The Soul Despairs.

The Novelist Does Not Long To See The Lion Eat Grass. He Realizes That One And The Same God Created The Wolf And The Lamb, Then Smiled, “seeing That His Work Was Good.”

The Individual Never Asserts Himself More Than When He Forgets Himself.

The Scholar Seeks Truth, The Artist Finds.

How Much More Sensuality Invites To Art Than Does Sentimentality.