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
Thesubconscious part in us is called the subjective mind, because it does notdecide and command. It is subject rather than a ruler. Its nature is to dowhat it is told, or what really in your heart of hearts you desire.
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.
