Art Is Not A Pastime But A

The Greatest Masterpiece In Literature Is Only A Dictionary Out Of Order.

A Prig Always Finds A Last Refuge In Responsibility.

Art Is Not A Pastime But A Priesthood.

Beauty Makes One Lose One's Head. Poetry Is Born Of This Decapitation

If A Hermit Lives In A State Of Ecstasy, His Lack Of Comfort Becomes The Height Of Comfort. He Must Relinquish It.