An Artist Cannot Speak About

And Now I Have To Confess The Unpardonable And The Scandalous. I Am A Happy Man. And I Am Going To Tell You The Secret Of My Happiness. It Is Quite Simple. I Love Mankind. I Love Love. I Hate Hate. I Try To Understand And Accept.

Catastrophe, Riots, Factories Blowing Up, Armies In Flight, Flood - The Ear Can Detect A Whole Apocalypse In The Starry Night Of The Human Body.

I Feel Myself Inhabited By A Force Or Being -- Very Little Known To Me. It Gives The Orders; I Follow.

A True Poet Does Not Bother To Be Poetical. Nor Does A Nursery Gardener Scent His Roses.

Art Produces Ugly Things Which Frequently Become Beautiful With Time.