Women Do Not Have As Great A

Sense (for A Particular Art, Science, Human Being, And So Forth) Is Divided Spirit; Self-restraint Is Consequently The Result Of Self-creation And Self-destruction.

It Is Peculiar To Mankind To Transcend Mankind.

Is It Not Superfluous To Write More Than One Novel If The Writer Has Not Become, Say, A New Man? Obviously, All The Novels Of An Author Not Infrequently Belong Together And Are To A Certain Degree Only One Novel.

The Naive Which Is Simultaneously Beautiful, Poetic, And Idealistic, Must Be Both Intention And Instinct. The Essence Of Intention, In This Sense, Is Freedom. Consciousness Is Far From Intention. There Is A Certain Enamoured Contemplation Of One's Own Naturalness Or Silliness Which Itself Is Unspeakably Silly. Intention Does Not Necessarily Require A Profound Calculation Or Plan.

Those Works Whose Ideal Has Not As Much Living Reality And, As It Were, Personality As The Beloved One Or A Friend Had Better Remain Unwritten. They Would At Least Never Become Works Of Art.