The Artist Is A Kind Of Prison

Statues To Great Men Are Made Of The Stones Thrown At Them In Their Lifetime.

I'm Not Willing Just To Be Tolerated. That Wounds My Love Of Love And Of Liberty.

If A Hermit Lives In A State Of Ecstasy, His Lack Of Comfort Becomes The Height Of Comfort. He Must Relinquish It.

You Are Always Concentrated On The Inner Thing. The Moment One Becomes Aware Of The Crowd, Performs For The Crowd, It Is Spectacle.

A True Poet Does Not Bother To Be Poetical. Nor Does A Nursery Gardener Scent His Roses.