Art Is Mind And Heart And Touch

Between Truth And The Search For It, I Choose The Second.

Psychoanalysts Are Not Occupied With The Minds Of Their Patients; They Do Not Believe In The Mind But In A Cerebral Intestine.

German Is Of Stone, Limestone, Pudding Stone, Marble, Granite Even, And So To A Considerable Degree Is English, Whereas French Is Bronze And Gives Out A Metallic Resonance With Tones That Neither German Nor English Tolerate.

[describing His House:] It Is A Library With Living Rooms Attached.

Who Will Free Me From Hurry, Flurry, The Feeling Of A Crowd Pushing Behind Me, Of Being Hustled And Crushed? How Can I Regain Even For A Minute The Feeling Of Ample Leisure I Had During My Early, My Creative Years? Then I Seldom Felt Fussed, Or Hurried. There Was Time For Work, For Play, For Love, The Confidence That If A Task Was Not Done At The Appointed Time, I Easily Could Fit It Into Another Hour. I Used To Take Leisure For Granted, As I Did Time Itself.