Great! I've Written Something Stupid, But I

I Could Have Protested Of Course, Who Says I Couldn't--i Could Have Risen To My Feet At Any Moment, Walked Up To Them, And--no Matter How Difficult It Would Have Been--made It Abundantly Clear That I Was Not Seventeen But Thirty. I Could Have--yet I Couldn't Because I Didn't Want To, The Only Thing I Wanted Was To Prove That I Was Not An Old-fashioned Boy!

Man Is Profoundly Dependent On The Reflection Of Himself In Another Man's Soul, Be It Even The Soul Of An Idiot.

Foolishness Is A Twin Sister Of Wisdom.

To Me, Art Almost Always Speaks More Forcefully When It Appears In An Imperfect, Accidental, And Fragmentary Way, Somehow Just Signaling Its Presence, Allowing One To Feel It Through The Ineptitude Of The Interpretation. I Prefer The Chopin That Reaches Me In The Street From An Open Window To The Chopin Served In Great Style From The Concert Stage.

Our Element Is Unending Immaturity.