I Never Heard Of Anyone

That Is The Operatic Problem; The Singer Must Keep Up A Big Head Of Steam While Trying To Appear Secretive, Or Seductive, Or Consumptive. Some Ingenious Composer Should Write An Opera About A Group Of People Who Were Condemned By A Cruel God To Scream All The Time; It Would Be An Instantaneous Success, And A Triumph Of Versimilitude.

I Was Afraid And Did Not Know What I Feared, Which Is The Worst Kind Of Fear.

I Am Quite A Wise Old Bird, But I Am No Desert Hermit Who Can Only Prophesy When His Guts Are Knotted With Hunger. I Am Deep In The Old Man’s Puzzle, Trying To Link The Wisdom Of The Body With The Wisdom Of The Spirit Until The Two Are One.

But As A Skeptic I Am Dubious About Science As About Everything Else, Unless The Scientist Is Himself A Skeptic, And Few Of Them Are. The Stench Of Formaldehyde May Be As Potent As The Whiff Of Incense In Stimulating A Naturally Idolatrous Understanding.

Art Is Wine And Experience Is The Brandy We Distill From It.