The Breath Of The Mind Is Attention.

The Early And The Latter Part Of Human Life Are The Best, Or, At Least, The Most Worthy Of Respect; The One As The Age Of Innocence, The Other Of Reason.

When My Friends Lack An Eye, I Look At Them In Profile.

When The Painter Wishes To Represent An Event, He Cannot Place Before Us Too Great A Number Of Personages; But He Cannot Employ Too Few When He Wishes To Portray An Emotion.

We Do Not Do Well Except When We Know Where The Best Is And When We Are Assured That We Have Touched It And Hold Its Power Within Us.

Words Become Luminous When The Poet's Finger Has Passed Over Them Its Phosphorescence.