Art, It Seems To Me,

I Was Thinking, As I Watched Her, How Little It Mattered –about Her Teeth For Instance. I Know So Many Women Who Have Kept All The Things She Had Lost, *but Whose Inner Glow Has Faded*. Whatever Else Was Gone, Antonia Had Not Lost The Fire Of Life.

In This World People Have To Pay An Extortionate Price For Any Exceptional Gift Whatever.

I Shall Not Die Of A Cold. I Shall Die Of Having Lived.

She Had Certain Thoughts Which Were Like Companions, Ideas Which Were Like Older And Wiser Friends.

Art Is A Concrete And Personal And Rather Childish Thing After All - No Matter What People Do To Graft It Into Science And Make It Sociological And Psychological; It Is No Good At All Unless It Is Let Alone To Be Itself - A Game Of Make-believe, Or Re-production, Very Exciting And Delightful To People Who Have An Ear For It Or An Eye For It.