The tormentof human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that theself is in prison, its vital force and ‘mangled mind’ leaking away in lonely,wasteful self-conflict.
I'vealways felt that a person's intelligence is directly reflected by the numberof conflicting points of view he can entertain simultaneously on the sametopic.
An artist is a cut above the critic, for the artist is writing something which will move the critic. The critic is writing something which will move everybody but the artist
