He can but create alone and must have solitude
for concentration, focusing and freedom from disturbance,
which makes him an alien and must affect his natural relationships,
at worst distorting him into an antisocial personality,
a monster and a freak, incapable of natural relationships,
quite often winding up in sado-masochism and tragical self-torture,
like a monk stuck in a dead end of exaggerated discipline.
But if the artist leaves this perilous self-centredness,
he risks his contact with the muses, his creativeness, his soul,
or that is what he thinks. What he must learn is compromise,
which always solves all problems, the supreme necessity,
for no one can do without love, and no one can do without company,
the muses often hide behind your friends and speak through them,
and, most important, love is never only for yourself.