The Mere Attempt To Examine My Own

For In The Immediate World, Everything Is To Be Discerned, For Him Who Can Discern It, And Central And Simply, Without Either Dissection Into Science, Or Digestion Into Art, But With The Whole Of Consciousness, Seeking To Perceive It As It Stands: So That The Aspect Of A Street In Sunlight Can Roar In The Heart Of Itself As A Symphony, Perhaps As No Symphony Can: And All Of Consciousness Is Shifted From The Imagined, The Revisive, To The Effort To Perceive Simply The Cruel Radiation Of What Is.

I Know I Am Making The Choice Most Dangerous To An Artist In Valuing Life Above Art.

I'm Very Anxious Not To Fall Into Archaism Or 'literary' Diction. I Want My Vocabulary To Have A Very Large Range, But The Words Must Be Alive.

You Must Be In Tune With The Times And Prepared To Break With Tradition.

Truth Lies Within A Little And Certain Compass, But Error Is Immense.