Love, Yes. Word Known To All Men.

I Care Not If I Live But A Day And A Night, So Long As My Deeds Live After Me.

The Object Of The Artist Is The Creation Of The Beautiful. What The Beautiful Is Is Another Question.

Every Life Is In Many Days, Day After Day. We Walk Through Ourselves, Meeting Robbers, Ghosts, Giants, Old Men, Young Men, Wives, Widows, Brothers-in-love. But Always Meeting Ourselves.

Stately, Plump Buck Mulligan Came From The Stairhead, Bearing A Bowl Of Lather On Which A Mirror And A Razor Lay Crossed.

The State Is Concentric, But The Individual Is Eccentric.