I joyfully hasten to meet death. If it come before I have had opportunity to develop all my artistic faculties, it will come, my hard fate notwithstanding, too soon, and I should probably wish it later - yet even then I shall be happy, for will it not deliver me from a state of endless suffering?

I used to be too free with my judgements and made enemies in this way; now I judge no one, and for no other reason than that I want to harm no one, and in the end I say to myself: if there's something decent in anyone, it will be upheld in spite of every kind of malice and envy; if there's nothing solid in him, nothing that's durable, then he'll collapse in any case, though others support him in every possible way.

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The true artist is not proud, he unfortunately sees that art has no limits; he feels darkly how far he is from the goal; and though he may be admired by others, he is sad not to have reached that point to which his better genius only appears as a distant, guiding sun. I would, perhaps, rather come to you and your people, than to many rich folk who display inward poverty.

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