What Thou Lov'st Well Is Thy True

Great Literature Is Simply Language Charged With Meaning To The Utmost Possible Degree.

The Concept Of Genius As Akin To Madness Has Been Carefully Cultivated By The Inferiority Complex Of The Public.

Art Is To Be Admired Rather Than Explained. The Jargon Of These Sculptors Is Beyond Me. I Do Not Precisely Know Why I Admire A Green Granite, Female, Apparently Pregnant Monster With One Eye Going Around A Square Corner.

Discoveries Are Made By Gluttons And Addicts. The Man Who Forgets To Eat And Sleep Has An Appetite For Fact, For Interrelations Among Causes.

And The Days Are Not Full Enough And The Nights Are Not Full Enough And Life Slips By Like A Field Mouse Not Shaking The Grass