| The actors by their presence always convince me, to
my horror, that most of what I've written about them until now is false.
It is false because I write about them with
steadfast love (even now, while I write it down, this, too, becomes false)
but varying ability, and this varying ability does not hit off the real
actors loudly and correctly but loses itself dully in this love
that will never be satisfied with the ability and therefore thinks it is
protecting the actors by preventing this ability from exercising itself.
Franz Kafka, in J.D. Salinger (1963): "Seymore: An Introduction" |