Perception of something of quality always necessarily needs a fragment of quality in the one perceiving. What then of the profound, the beautiful, the profoundly beautiful, the beautifully profound? A correlative need: keener eyes, sharper minds, more sensitive souls. The great artists, not the merely good ones, kill themselves. The slit through which the world sees them is too small; at times perceived as nothing at all. If you are not praised it is either because you deserve no praise or because you have climbed past praise. Looking down the precipice of the universe, you see the world flagging to catch up with you.

Greatness of production needs greatness of perception. Or else the work itself is useless. He who creates knows not the value of what he creates, just as a mother is blind with love for her child, blemished or blazing gold.