What Matters In Art Is Not Thinking

No Sacred Fane Requires Us To Submit To Insult.

Tolerance Comes Of Age. I See No Fault Committed That I Myself Could Not Have Committed At Some Time Or Other.

Nothing Puts Me So Completely Out Of Patience As The Utterance Of A Wretched Commonplace When I Am Talking From My Inmost Heart.

Our Earthly Ball A Peopled Garden.

Here Too It’s Masquerade, I Find: As Everywhere, The Dance Of Mind. I Grasped A Lovely Masked Procession, And Caught Things From A Horror Show… I’d Gladly Settle For A False Impression, If It Would Last A Little Longer, Though.