What I am searching for is neither the real nor the unreal, but the Subconscious, the mystery of what is Instinctive in the human Race.
He painted with such passion and fervor that the picture fell from the easel onto his head when he bent forward to try to view it close up.
I am also trying to formulate with the greatest lucidity the truths of art and life I have discerned scattered among the beauties of Rome, and as their inner meaning becomes clear to me I shall seek to reveal and rearrange their composition, I could almost say metaphysical architecture, to create out of it my truth of life, beauty and art.
This startled me. He was sorry to have frightened me and so smiled at me gently and began singing Italian songs to make me forget the incident.
We others (excuse the plural) have different rights from normal people, for we have different needs which place us above their morality. It is our duty never to be consumed by the sacrificial fire. Your real duty is to save your dream. Beauty too has some painful duties: these produce, however, the noblest achievements of the soul.
As a sitter you had the impression that your soul was being dissected.
To do any work, I must have a living person. I must be able to see him opposite me…
I can still see him standing before me now with his short sleeves and his tousled hair as he attempted to capture my features on the canvas.
Isn’t this the aim of friendship: to shape and exalt the will according to its bent, to reveal each to the other and to ourselves? Goodbye.
While I was preparing dinner, he asked me to lift my head for a few moments and by the light of a candle, he drew a beautiful sketch on which he wrote:
La Vita ~ un Dono: dei pochi ai molti: di Coloro che Sanno e che banno a Coloro che non Sanno e che non banno.
Life is a Gift: from the few to the many; from Those who Know and have to Those who do not Know and have not.
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