I am an obscure and patient pearl-fisherman who dives into the deepest
waters and comes up with empty hands and a blue face. Some fatal
attraction draws me down into the abysses of thought, down into those
innermost recesses which never cease to fascinate the strong. I shall
spend my life gazing at the ocean of art, where others voyage or fight;
and from time to time I’ll entertain myself by diving for those green
and yellow shells that nobody will want. So I shall keep them for myself
and cover the walls of my hut with them.
If you
participate in life, you don’t see it clearly: you suffer from it too
much or enjoy it too much. The artist, to my way of thinking, is a
monstrosity, something outside nature. All the misfortunes Providence
inflicts on him come from his stubbornness in denying that maxim.
~Gustave Flaubert
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