The Worth Of A Civilization Or A

The Classicist, And The Naturalist Who Has Much In Common With Him, Refuse To See In The Highest Works Of Art Anything But The Exercise Of Judgement, Sensibility, And Skill. The Romanticist Cannot Be Satisfied With Such A Normal Standard; For Him Art Is Essentially Irrational - An Experience Beyond Normality, Sometimes Destructive Of Normality, And At The Very Least Evocative Of That State Of Wonder Which Is The State Of Mind Induced By The Immediately Inexplicable.

Modern Man Has Been In Search Of A New Language Of Form To Satisfy New Longings And Aspirations - Longings For Mental Appeasement, Aspirations To Unity, Harmony, Serenity - An End To His Alienation From Nature. All These Arts Of Remote Times Or Strange Cultures Either Give Or Suggest To The Modern Artist Forms Which He Can Adapt To His Needs, The Elements Of A New Iconography.

We May Be Sure That Out Of The Ruins Of Our Capitalist Civilization A New Religion Will Emerge, Just As Christianity Emerged From The Ruins Of The Roman Civilization.

Sentir Mon Cœur Is A Privilege Only Granted To The Exceptional Man - The One Who Has The Ability To Find Words That Exactly (or, To Himself, Convincingly) Express His Feelings... The Value Of Words Help To Define The Feeling Itself... The Common Failure Is To Allow Habitual Words And Phrases, Flowing Spontaneously From The Memory, To Determine And Deform The Feelings.

In The Evolution Of Mankind There Has Always Been A Certain Degree Of Social Coherence.