Art At Its Greatest Is Fantastically Deceitful

I Think Like A Genius, I Write Like A Distinguished Author, And I Speak Like A Child.

Humbert Was Perfectly Capable Of Intercourse With Eve, But It Was Lilith He Longed For.

Beauty Plus Pity-that Is The Closest We Can Get To A Definition Of Art. Where There Is Beauty There Is Pity For The Simple Reason That Beauty Must Die: Beauty Always Dies, The Manner Dies With The Matter, The World Dies With The Individual.

We Hasten To Alienate The Very Fates We Intended To Woo.

There Are Teachers And Students With Square Minds Who Are By Nature Meant To Undergo The Fascination Of Catagories. For Them, 'schools' And 'movements' Are Everything; By Painting A Group Symbol On The Brow Of Mediocrity, They Condone Their Own Incomprehension Of True Genius.