And Can A Man His Own Quietus

Necessary, Forever Necessary, To Burn Out False Shames And Smelt The Heaviest Ore Of The Body Into Purity.

Art Is A Form Of Supremely Delicate Awareness And Atonement — Meaning Atoneness, The State Of Being At One With The Object.

Imitate The Magnificent Trees That Speak No Word Of Their Rapture, But Only Breathe Largely The Luminous Breeze.

The Words Themselves Are Clean, So Are The Things To Which They Apply. But The Mind Drags In A Filthy Association, Calls Up Some Repulsive Emotion. Well, Then, Cleanse The Mind, That Is The Real Job. It Is The Mind Which Is The Augean Stables, Not Language.

Ethics And Equity And The Principles Of Justice Do Not Change With The Calendar.