He Who Loves The More

Art Is The Funnel, As It Were, Through Which Spirit Is Poured Into Life.

To Allow Only The Kind Of Art That The Average Man Understands Is The Worst Small-mindedness And The Murder Of Mind And Spirit. It Is My Conviction That The Intellect Can Be Certain That In Doing What Most Disconcerts The Crowd, In Pursuing The Most Daring, Unconventional Advances And Explorations, It Will In Some Highly Indirect Fashion Serve Man - And In The Long Run, All Men.

And Then The Sly Arch-lover That He Was, He Said The Subtlest Thing Of All: That The Lover Was Nearer The Divine Than The Beloved; For The God Was In The One But Not In The Other - Perhaps The Tenderest, Most Mocking Thought That Ever Was Thought, And Source Of All The Guile And Secret Bliss The Lover Knows.

Solitude Produces Originality, Bold And Astonishing Beauty, Poetry. But Solitude Also Produces Perverseness, The Disproportianate, The Absurd And The Forbidden.

A Man Lives Not Only His Personal Life, As An Individual, But Also, Consciously Or Unconsciously, The Life Of His Epoch And His Contemporaries.