Freedom lies in being bold. when i get a little money, i buy books; and, if any is left, i buy food and clothes. it’s strange that words are so inadequate. yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words. in our struggle for freedom, truth is the only weapon we possess. if you do not tell the truth about yourself, you cannot tell it about other people. the feeling of sunday is the same everywhere: heavy, melancholy, standing still. like when they say, ‘as it was in the beginning.

Artistic growth is, more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness. The stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is. Every child is an artist.

All art is quite useless. one can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar. words do not express thoughts very well. they always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish.