One Paints With One's Head, Not One's

Painting And Sculpture, Labour And Good Faith, Have Been My Ruin And I Continually Go From Bad To Worse. Better It Would Have Been For Me If I Had Set Myself To Making Matches In My Youth. I Should Not Be In Such Distress Of Mind.

Death And Love Are The Two Wings That Bear The Good Man To Heaven.

There Is An Angel Imprisoned In It And I Must Set It Free.

The Hand That Follows Intellect Can Achieve.

I Live And Love In God's Peculiar Light.