I would have said to Kierkegaard straight off: "It doesn't matter what you say, but what it says in you. To it you must address your answers. God is straightway with you and is the voice within you. You have to have it out with that voice." Whatever stuffing Kierkegaard had in him would then have been plain to see. A changed man, certainly but a whole one, not a jangling hither and thither of displeasing fragmentary souls. True creative genius does not let itself be spoilt by analysis, but is freed from the impediments and distortions of a neurosis. Neurosis does not produce art. It is uncreative and inimical to life. It is failure and bungling. But the moderns mistake morbidity for creative birth - part of the general lunacy of our time. Neurosis is a justified doubt in oneself and continually poses the ultimate question of trust in man and in God. Doubt is creative if it is answered by deeds, and so is neurosis if it exonerates itself as having been a phase - a crisis which is pathological only when chronic. Neurosis is a protracted crisis degenerated into a habit, the daily catastrophe ready to use."