“And then Nature is so indifferent, so unappreciative. Whenever I am walking in the park here, I always feel that I am no more to her than the cattle that browse on the slope, or the burdock that blooms in the ditch. Nothing is more evident than that Nature hates the Mind.”
-Wilde, Oscar. The Decay of Lying. New York: Bertano’s, 1905. 9-10. Web. <http://archive.org/details/partialportraits00jameiala>.
Notes: Humans are self absorbed, Nature is always giving
“Art lives upon discussion, upon experiment, upon curiosity, upon variety of attempt, upon the exchange of views and the comparison of standpoints; and there is a presumption that those times when no one has anything particular to say about it, and has no reason to give for practice or preference, though they may be times of genius, are not times of development, are times possibly even, a little, of dullness.”
-James, Henry. “The Art of Fiction.” Longman’s Magazine 4 Sept. 1884: n. pag. Web. <http://public.wsu.edu/~campbelld/amlit/artfiction.html>.
Notes: living, malleable, purposeful