Beauty, Real Beauty, Is Something Very Grave.

Don't Make The Mistake Of Believing It's Enough To Reproduce The Realities Of Life.... The Object Of Art Is To Give Life A Shape, And To Do It By Every Conceivable Artifice.

Life Has A Way Of Setting Things In Order And Leaving Them Be. Very Tidy, Is Life.

Life Is A Wonderful Thing To Talk About, Or To Read About In History Books - But It Is Terrible When One Has To Live It.

It Is Restful, Tragedy, Because One Knows That There Is No More Lousy Hope Left. You Know You're Caught, Caught At Last Like A Rat With All The World On Its Back. And The Only Thing Left To Do Is Shout - Not Moan, Or Complain, But Yell Out At The Top Of Your Voice Whatever It Was You Had To Say. What You've Never Said Before. What Perhaps You Don't Even Know Till Now.

Life Isn't What You Think It Is. It's Like Water, And The Young Let It Trickle Away Between Their Fingers Without Even Noticing. Cup Your Hands, Keep It Safe. Life Eventually Becomes Something Else, Something Hard, Something Simple, Something You Can Hold In Your Hand And Nibble On Contentedly As You Sit In The Sun.