Divergences

One says: please no inner life, manners by all means, but nothing affective, that’s no compensation for the insufferable difficulties of outward-directed expression— those cerebralized city-Styxes when my little prince pokes his chubby little legs through the bars of his cot it melts my heart, it was like that with Otto Ernst, and it’s no different now the contraries are not easy to reconcile but when you survey the provinces the inner life has it by a neck.