Childhood Knows Unhappiness Through Men. In Solitude,

Of Course, A Psychologist Would Find It More Direct To Study The Inspired Poet. He Would Make Concrete Studies Of Inspiration In Individual Geniuses. But For All That, Would He Experience The Phenomena Of Inspiration? His Human Documentation Gathered From Inspired Poets Could Hardly Be Related, Except From The Exterior, In An Ideal Of Objective Observations. Comparison Of Inspired Poets Would Soon Make Us Lose Sight Of Inspiration.

It Is Not A Question Of Observation Which Propels Mankind Forward As If Toward A Looking Glass Of Great Magnitude; It Is An Instance Of Aggrandized Reflection That Insinuates The Human Psyche To The Inhuman.

This Word "description" May Be Disconcerting When Used To Refer To What Is Generally Called A Translation. But When One Wishes To Render A Verbal Creation (as Opposed To A Didactic Statement) From One Language To Another, He Is Confronted With Two Equally Unsatisfactory Choices. He May, According To His Talents, Elaborate A Similar, But Never Identical Creation, Or He May Describe That Creation As Completely As Possible In His Own Language.

The Best Proof Of The Specificity Of The Book Is That It Is At Once A Reality Of The Virtual And A Virtuality Of The Real.

The Dream Remains Overloaded With The Badly Lived Passions Of Daytime Life. Solitude In The Nocturnal Dream Is Always A Hostility. It Is Strange. It Isn't Really Our Solitude.