Literature has exalted pensive immobility, ecstasy, and sleep. We exalt aggressive action, a feverish insomnia...The world’s magnificence has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed.
Even if someone paints a 'green sun', I will not say it is wrong.
Every work of art is the child of its age and, in many cases, the mother of our emotions.
A first encounter with any new phenomenon exercises immediately an impression on the soul.