An artist is a cut above the critic, for the artist is writing something which will move the critic. The critic is writing something which will move everybody but the artist
I’mwillin’ for any solution — religious, political. I’m not going to keepofferin’ to negotiate so much because they turn us down each time. Itindicates a weakness on our part.
The tormentof human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that theself is in prison, its vital force and ‘mangled mind’ leaking away in lonely,wasteful self-conflict.
