We can't love a man who has never endured what we have," said another.

"No genius can hide his own immunity.

That man paints with an unscarred soul.

A little hell for his--and no living painter could stand beside him." "Piffle," observed John Burleson.
Ogilvy said: "It is true, I think, that out of human suffering a quality is distilled which affects everything one does.

Those who have known sorrow can best depict it--not perhaps most plausibly, but most convincingly--and with fewer accessories, more reticence, and--better taste." "Why do you want to paint tragedies ?" demanded Burleson.
"One need not paint them, John, but one needs to understand them to paint anything else--needs to have lived them, perhaps, to become a master of pictured happiness, physical or spiritual." "That's piffle, too!" said Burleson in his rumbling bass--"like that damn hen you lugged in--" A shout of laughter relieved everybody.
"Do you want a fellow to go and poke his head into trouble and get himself mixed up in a tragedy so that he can paint better ?" insisted Burleson, scornfully.
"There's usually no necessity to hunt trouble," said Annan.
"But you say that Kelly never had any and that he'd paint better if he had." "Trouble _might_ be the making of Kelly Neville," mused Ogilvy, "and it might not.