Forgetfulness heals everything and song is the most beautiful manner of forgetting, for in song man feels only what he loves.
Ivo AndricAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Born: October 9, 1892
- Died: March 13, 1975
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Great God! What have I turned into? What right have you people to clutter up my life, steal my time, probe my soul, suckle my thoughts, have me for your companion, confidant, and information bureau? What do you take me for? Am I an entertainer on salary, required every evening to play an intellectual farce under your stupid noses? Am I a slave, bought and paid for, to crawl on my belly in front of you idlers and lay at your feet all that I do and all that I know?
Henry Miller