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
In oneof our concert grand pianos, 243 taut strings exert a pull of 40,000 poundson an iron frame. It is proof that out of great tension may come great harmony.
Thetorment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause,is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force and ‘mangledmind’ leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict.
Twoprisoners whose cells adjoin communicate with each other by knocking on thewall. The wall is the thing which separates them but is also their means ofcommunication. It is the same with us and God. Every separation is a link.
