Every True Genius Is Bound To Be

Day's Lustrous Eyes Grow Heavy In Sweet Death.

I Have Enjoyed The Happiness Of The World; I Have Loved.

The Painter Is, As To The Execution Of His Work, A Mechanic; But As To His Conception And Spirit And Design He Is Hardly Below Even The Poet.

He That Is Over-cautious Will Accomplish But Very Little.

The Dignity Of Man Into Your Hands Is Given; Oh, Keep It Well, With You It Sinks Or Lifts Itself To Heaven.