He Who Observes Etiquette But

For What Is The Program Of The Bourgeois Parties? A Bad Poem On Springtime, Filled To Bursting With Metaphors.

In The Fields With Which We Are Concerned, Knowledge Comes Only In Flashes. The Text Is The Thunder Rolling Long Afterward.

Work On A Good Piece Of Writing Proceeds On Three Levels: A Musical One, Where It Is Composed, An Architectural One, Where It Is Constructed, And Finally A Textile One, Where It Is Woven.

He Who Asks Fortune-tellers The Future Unwittingly Forfeits An Inner Intimation Of Coming Events That Is A Thousand Times More Exact Than Anything They May Say. He Is Impelled By Inertia, Rather Than Curiosity, And Nothing Is More Unlike The Submissive Apathy With Which He Hears His Fate Revealed Than The Alert Dexterity With Which The Man Of Courage Lays Hands On The Future.

To Perceive The Aura Of An Object We Look At Means To Invest It With The Ability To Look At Us In Return.