Art Is Either A Plagiarist Or A

The Great Artist Is A Formulation Of The Greatest Intelligence: He Is The Recipient Of Sensations Which Are The Most Delicate And Consequently The Most Invisible Expressions Of The Brain.

Why Did I Hesitate To Put All This Glory Of The Sun On My Canvas?

Under The Continual Contact With The Pebbles My Feet Have Become Hardened And Used To The Ground. My Body, Almost Constantly Nude, No Longer Suffers From The Sun. Civilization Is Falling From Me Little By Little. I Am Beginning To Think Simply, To Feel Only Very Little Hatred For My Neighbor - Rather, To Love Him.

Civilization Is Paralysis.

Poor Artist! You Gave Away Part Of Your Soul When You Painted The Picture Which You Are Now Trying To Dispose Of.