The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is is another question.
You made me confess the fears that I have. But I will tell you also what I do not fear. I do not fear to be alone or to be spurned for another or to leave whatever I have to leave. And I am not afraid to make a mistake, even a great mistake, a lifelong mi
Why is it that words like these seem dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?
