To The Artist Is Sometimes Granted A

Does There, I Wonder, Exist A Being Who Has Read All, Or Approximately All, That The Person Of Average Culture Is Supposed To Have Read, And That Not To Have Read Is A Social Sin? If Such A Being Does Exist, Surely He Is An Old, A Very Old Man.

Always Behave As If Nothing Had Happened, No Matter What Has Happened.

I Don't Read My Reviews, I Measure Them.

Every Scene, Even The Commonest, Is Wonderful, If Only One Can Detach Oneself, Casting Off All Memory Of Use And Custom, And Behold It (as It Were) For The First Time; In Its Right, Authentic Colors; Without Making Comparisons. Cherish And Burnish This Faculty Of Seeing Crudely, Simply, Artlessly, Ignorantly; Of Seeing Like A Baby Or A Lunatic, Who Lives Each Moment By Itself And Tarnishes By The Present No Remembrance Of The Past.

The Only Way To Write A Great Book Is To Write It With The Eyes Of A Child Who Sees Things For The First Time.