Art is the one form of human energy in the whole world,
which really works for union, and destroys the barriers between man and man. It
is the continual, unconscious replacement, however fleeting, of oneself by
another; the real cement of human life; the everlasting refreshment and
renewal. For, what is grievous, dompting, grim, about our lives is that we are
shut up within ourselves, with an itch to get outside ourselves. And to be
stolen away from ourselves by Art is a momentary relaxation from that itching,
a minute's profound, and as it were secret, enfranchisement.
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