Until The Day Of His Death No

Life Is A Child Playing Round Your Feet, A Tool You Hold Firmly In Your Grip, A Bench You Sit Down Upon In The Evening, In Your Garden.

We Have Found Other Terms Far Less Vague Than The Old Ones To Designate The Same Complaints. It's A Great Advance Linguistically.

It Takes A Certain Courage And A Certain Greatness Even To Be Truly Base.

Inspiration Is A Farce That Poets Have Invented To Give Themselves Importance.

Life Is Very Nice, But It Lacks Form. It's The Aim Of Art To Give It Some.