War Is Only A Cowardly

It Is Most Certainly A Good Thing That The World Knows Only The Beautiful Opus But Not Its Origins, Not The Conditions Of Its Creation; For If People Knew The Sources Of The Artist's Inspiration, That Knowledge Would Often Confuse Them, Alarm Them, And Thereby Destroy The Effects Of Excellence. Strange Hours! Strangely Enervating Labor! Bizarrely Fertile Intercourse Of The Mind With A Body!

For The Myth Is The Foundation Of Life; It Is The Timeless Schema, The Pious Formula Into Which Life Flows When It Reproduces Its Traits Out Of The Unconscious.

The Accouterments Of Life Were So Rich And Varied, So Elaborated, That Almost No Place At All Was Left For Life Itself. Each And Every Accessory Was So Costly And Beautiful That It Had An Existence Above And Beyond The Purpose It Was Meant To Serve – Confusing The Observer And Absorbing Attention.

But My Deepest And Most Secret Love Belongs To The Fair-haired And The Blue-eyed, The Bright Children Of Life, The Happy, The Charming And The Ordinary.

Only Love, And Not Reason, Yields Kind Thoughts.