Art Like Life Is An

Let Us Define 'man' As A Poet Perpetually Conspiring Against Himself.

Gamblers And Lovers Really Play To Lose.

The National Characteristics... The Restless Metaphysical Curiosity, The Tenderness Of Good Living And The Passionate Individualism. This Is The Invisible Constant In A Place With Which The Ordinary Tourist Can Get In Touch Just By Sitting Quite Quietly Over A Glass Of Wine In A Paris Bistro.

Art—the Meaning Of The Pattern Of Our Common Actions In Reality. The Cloth-of-gold That Hides Behind The Sackcloth Of Reality, Forced Out By The Pain Of Human Memory.

No History Much? Perhaps. Only This Ominous Dark Beauty Flowering Under Veils, Trapped In The Spectrum Of A Dying Style: A Village Like An Instinct Left To Rust, Composed Around The Echo Of A Pistol-shot.