Art Is Not Emotion. Art Is The

It Is Easier To Analyze A Work In Its Form, In Its Evolution, Than Simply To Love It With All The Living Forces Of Our Heart. It Is Easier To Define Its Peculiarities And Its Details Than To Draw Out Of It Its Emotion, Its Thought.

It Is So Much Easier To Rest Contented With What We Have Already Acquired Than To Change Ever So Slightly Those Routine But Profound Habits Of Thought And Feeling Which Govern Our Life, And By Which We Live So Blissfully. This Mental Inertia Is, Perhaps, Our Greatest Enemy. Insidiously It Leads Us To Assume That We Can Renew Our Lives Without Renewing Our Habits.

Never Forget That Your Days Are Blessed. You May Know How To Profit By Them, Or You May Not, But They Are Blesses.

Everything We Know By Heart Enriches Us And Helps Us Find Ourselves. If It Should Get In The Way Of Finding Ourselves, It Is Because We Have No Personality.

In Music Everything Is Prolonged, Everything Is Edified, And When The Enchantment Has Ceased, We Are Still Bathed In Its Clarity; Solitude Is Accompanied By A New Hope Between Pity For Ourselves - Which Makes Us More Indulgent And More Understanding - And The Certitude Of Finding Something Again, That Which Lives For Ever In Music.