Something You Have To Make...it's All Work,

People Don't Use Their Eyes. They Never See A Bird, They See A Sparrow. They Never See A Tree, They See A Birch. They See Concepts.

A Foul-mouthed Oaf, A Drunken Laborer Lying In A Drain, A Beaten Wife With Blackened Eyes And Torn Clothes, Cannot Be Made Romantic To A Child Who Sees How Other Children Suffer From Bad-tempered Parents, From Drunken Fathers To Termagant Mothers.

A Perpetually New And Lively World, But A Dangerous One, Full Of Tragedy And Injustice.

All Art Is Bad, But Modern Art Is The Worst.

Where Can One Find A Profounder Desolation Than In The Poor Child Who Has Lost Its Mother?