Realism, in so far as the word means reality to life, is always bad art.
There is within every human being a deep well of thinking over which a heavy iron lid is kept clamped.
Interest in the lives of others, the high evaluation of these lives, what are they but the overflow of the interest a man finds in himself, the value he attributes to his own being?.
A man needs a purpose for real health.
The writing of words can lead to all sorts of absurdities.
Dare to be strong and courageous. That is the road. Venture anything.