We Are All Snobs Of The Infinite,

Life Is Like An Onion: You Peel Off Layer After Layer And Then You Find There Is Nothing In It.

Great Art Is An Instant Arrested In Eternity.

We Are All Snobs Of The Infinite, Parvenus Of The Eternal.

Let There Be No Mincing Of Comparisons In This Assertion. Not Turner, Not Monet, Painted So Directly Blinding Shafts Of Sunlight As Has This Spaniard.

Liszt's So-called Piano Music Is Nothing But Chopin And Brandy.