Take A Portion Of Wit, And Fashion

On Reflection, Moral Judgment In The Arts Appears Rather As A Tribute To Their Power To Influence Emotion And Possibly Conduct. And Reflecting Further On What Some Critics Do Today, One Sees That A Good Many Have Merely Shifted The Ground Of Their Moralism, Transferring Their Impulse Of Righteousness To Politics And Social Issues.

In A Large University, There Are As Many Deans And Executive Heads As There Are Schools And Departments. Their Relations To One Another Are Intricate And Periodic; In Fact, "galaxy" Is Too Loose A Term: It Is A Planetarium Of Deans With The President Of The University As A Central Sun. One Can See Eclipses, Inner Systems, And Oppositions.

Maxims In Times Of Danger Are Useless, Experience Is Incommunicable. The Knotted Strands Of Life, Desire, Assumptions, And Moral Codes Cannot Be Unsnarled; They Can Only Be Cut, Which Is What Happens When An Air Raid Occurs, With A Silencing Fortissimo Like The Finale Of A Beethoven Symphony.

The Mind Tends To Run Along The Groove Of One's Intention And Overlook The Actual Expression.

You Never Step In The Same River Of Thought Twice, Because Neither You Nor It Are The Same.