Art without life is a poor affair.
Be generous, be delicate, and always pursue the prize.
You seemed to me to be soaring far up in the blue - to be sailing in the bright light, over the heads of men. Suddenly some one tosses up a faded rosebud - a missile that should never have reached you - and down you drop to the ground.
If one is strong, one loves the more strongly.
If this was love, love had been overrated.
The fatal futility of Fact.