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Behind Joy and Laughter there may be a temperament, coarse, hard and callous[87a]. But behind Sorrow there is always Sorrow. Pain, unlike Pleasure, wears no mask[87b]. Truth in Art is not any correspondence between the essential idea and the accidental existence; it is not the resemblance of shape to shadow, or of the form mirrored in the crystal to the form itself: it is no Echo coming from a hollow hill, any more than it is the well of silver water[87c] in the valley that shows the Moon to the Moon and Narcissus to Narcissus[87d]. Truth in Art is the unity of a thing with itself: the outward rendered expressive of the inward: the soul made incarnate: the body instinct with spirit. For this reason there is no truth comparable to Sorrow. There are times when Sorrow seems to me to be the only truth. Other things may be illusions of the eye or the appetite, made to blind the one and cloy the other[87e], but out of Sorrow have the worlds been built, and at the birth of a child or a star there is pain.
欢乐与欢笑背后可能藏着一种性情，一种粗俗、刻薄、冷酷的性情[87a]。但悲怆的背后却永远是悲怆。痛苦，不像痛快，是不戴面具的[87b]。艺术的真实，不在于本质的意念和偶然的存在之间的任何对应；不是形与影的相似，或者说形式本身同映在水晶中的那个形式的相似；也不是空山回音，或者幽谷中的一汪清水[87c]，把月亮倒映给月亮，把水仙倒映给水仙[87d]。艺术的真实是事物同其本身的整合，达成的外形表达着内涵，使灵魂获得肉身，使肉体充满精神。基于这个理由，就不存在能与悲怆相提并论的真实。有些时候悲怆似乎是我唯一的真实。其他的可能是眼睛或口腹的幻觉，变出来蒙蔽一个撑坏另一个[87e]。但天地万象，是以悲怆建造的，一个孩子、一颗星星的诞生，都伴随着疼痛。
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