Elaboration Is Not Beauty, And Sand-paper Never

The Artist Is An Interpreter Of Nature. People Learn To Love Nature Through Pictures. To The Artist, Nothing Is In Vain; Nothing Beneath His Notice. If He Is Great Enough, He Will Exalt Every Subject Which He Treats.

It Gives A Fellow An Awful Shiver To Hear The First Shovelful Of Dirt And Gravel Rattle Down Upon The Coffin; But After It Is Covered, It Falls Gently And Makes No Sound. The Feeling Of Rest Is Perfect. There's No More Nagging, No More Pain!

Elaboration Is Not Beauty, And Sand-paper Never Finished A Piece Of Bad Work.

I Tell You It's No Joke To Paint A Portrait. I Wonder That I Am Not More Timid When I Begin. I Feel Almost Certain That I Can Do It. It Seems Very Simple. I Don't Think Of The Time That Is Sure To Come When I Almost Despair, When The Whole Thing Seems Hopeless.

Beauty Is That Little Something That Fills The Whole World, And Is Contained Neither In A Single Straight Nose, A Long Eyelash, Nor A Blue Mountain. Some See It In A Leg Of Mutton, Others In A Compound Fracture; And To Expect Others To Accept One's Own Definition Of It Is As Absurd As To Expect All Humanity To Use The Same Toilet-brush.