To Learn One Must Be Humble. But

We Are Bound Together By The Sympathy Of Our Antipathies.

Moments Of Their Secret Life Together Burst Like Stars Upon His Memory.

When A Man Is Born...there Are Nets Flung At It To Hold It Back From Flight. You Talk To Me Of Nationality, Language, Religion. I Shall Try To Fly By Those Nets.

The Object Of The Artist Is The Creation Of The Beautiful. What The Beautiful Is Is Another Question.

A Corpse Is Meat Gone Bad. Well And What's Cheese? Corpse Of Milk.