All Our "most Sacred Affections " Are

A Corpse Is What's Left After Waking Too Often.

To Avenge A Wrong Done To You, Is To Rob Yourself Of The Comfort Of Crying Out Against The Injustice Of It.

In The Mental Disturbance And Effort Of Writing, What Sustains You Is The Certainty That On Every Page There Is Something Left Unsaid.

In Fact A Man In Love Or One Consumed With Hatred Creates Symbols For Himself, As A Superstitious Man Does, From A Passion Of Conferring Uniqueness On Things Or Persons. A Man Who Knows Nothing Of Symbols Is One Of Dante's Sluggards. This Is Why Art Mirrors Itself In Primitive Rites Or Strong Passions, Seeking For Symbols, Revolving Round The Primitive Taste For Savagery, For What Is Irrational (blood And Sex).

Writing Is A Fine Thing, Because It Combines The Two Pleasures Of Talking To Yourself And Talking To A Crowd.