What things matter? What things have a value of their own instead of a borrowed glory? Is there such a thing as an intrinsic worth? It's fashionable to say no. To say a tree is only its wood, that any painting is a work of art, that journalism can be literature, that love is self-interest or that ethics are mores. It is right to question standards but wrong to assume that there aren't any. Where there are no standards the market-place obtains.
(Jeanette Winterson, Art and Lies pg 101)
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