Evidently the arts, all the visual arts, are becoming more democratic in the worst sense of the word.

This proves that great lyric poetry can die, be reborn, die again, but will always remain one of the most outstanding creations of the human soul.

Mass communication, radio, and especially television, have attempted, not without success, to annihilate every possibility of solitude and reflection.

Against the dark background of this contemporary civilization of well-being, even the arts tend to mingle, to lose their identity.

Strangely, Dante's Divine Comedy did not produce a prose of that creative height or it did so after centuries.

Art is the production of objects for consumption, to be used and discarded while waiting for a new world in which man will have succeeded in freeing himself of everything, even of his own consciousness.

Evidently the arts, all the visual arts, are becoming more democratic in the worst sense of the word.