"So if everything fell apart and was incinerated, I would still be here waiting for the reason you left." " I won't leave then," I said. He looked at me intensely, "Then remember what Rilke said." I stared into his eyes, "What did he say?" "Just as the creative artist is not allowed to choose, neither is he permitted to turn his back on anything: a single refusal, and he is cast out of the state of grace and becomes sinful all the way through.'' "Anything?" I asked. "Anything, especially me, and us."