Then it is unfolded into life and art.

Our vision, our belief, our metaphysic is wearing woefully thin, and the art is wearing absolutely threadbare.

We have no future; neither for our hopes nor our aims nor our art.

It has all gone gray and opaque.
We've got to rip the old veil of a vision across, and find what the heart really believes in, after all: and what the heart really wants, for the next future.

And we've got to put it down in terms of belief and of knowledge.