“The truly creative mind is inhumanly sensitive. To her a touch is a blow, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create so that without the creating of music, poetry or books , her very breath is cut off from her. She must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency she is not really alive unless she is creating.”
-Pearl Buck
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