If You Are Possessed By An Idea,

Thought That Can Merge Wholly Into Feeling, Feeling That Can Merge Wholly Into Thought - These Are The Artist's Highest Joy.

Isn't It Grand, Isn't It Good, That Language Has Only One Word For Everything We Associate With Love - From Utter Sanctity To The Most Fleshly Lust? The Result Is Perfect Clarity In Ambiguity, For Love Cannot Be Disembodied Even In Its Most Sanctified Forms, Nor Is It Without Sanctity Even At Its Most Fleshly. Love Is Always Simply Itself, Both As A Subtle Affirmation Of Life And As The Highest Passion; Love Is Our Sympathy With Organic Life.

A Man Lives Not Only His Personal Life, As An Individual, But Also, Consciously Or Unconsciously, The Life Of His Epoch And His Contemporaries.

The Accouterments Of Life Were So Rich And Varied, So Elaborated, That Almost No Place At All Was Left For Life Itself. Each And Every Accessory Was So Costly And Beautiful That It Had An Existence Above And Beyond The Purpose It Was Meant To Serve – Confusing The Observer And Absorbing Attention.

Solitude Gives Birth To The Original In Us, To Beauty Unfamiliar And Perilous - To Poetry. But Also, It Gives Birth To The Opposite: To The Perverse, The Illicit, The Absurd.