And Still I Am Learning.

The Art Of Creation Lies In The Gift Of Perceiving The Particular And Generalizing It, Thus Creating The Particular Again. It Is Therefore A Powerful Transforming Force And A Generator Of Creative Solutions In Relation To A Given Problem.

However Rich I May Have Been, I Have Always Lived Like A Poor Man.

There Is No Tongue To Speak His Eulogy; Too Brightly Burned His Splendour For Our Eyes: Far Easier To Condemn His Injurers, Than For The Tongue To Reach His Smallest Worth. He To The Realms Of Sinfulness Came Down, To Teach Mankind; Ascending Then To God, Heaven Unbarred To Him Her Lofty Gates, To Whom His Country Hers Refused To Ope. Ungrateful Land, To Its Own Injury Nurse Of His Fate! Well Too Does This Instruct, That Greatest Ills Fall To The Perfectest. And 'midst A Thousand Proofs, Let This Suffice, That, As His Exile Had No Parallel, So Never Was There Man More Great Than He.

Gazing On Beautiful Things Acts On My Soul.

Perchance That I Might Learn What Pity Is, That I Might Laugh At Erring Men No More.