The writer's life seethes within but not without.
Art is rare and sacred and hard work, and there ought to be a wall of fire around it.
Hitler was a teetotalitarian.
Eat this sweetish segment or spit it out. You are free.
All art preserves mysteries which aesthetic philosophers tackle in vain.
But, brothers, this biting of their toe-nails over what is the CAUSE of badness is what turns me into a fine laughing malchick. They don't go into what is the cause of GOODNESS, so why of the other shop?