People Demand Freedom Only When They Have

Give What You Have. To Some One, It May Be Better Than You Dare To Think.

The Helicon Of Too Many Poets Is Not A Hill Crowned With Sunshine And Visited By The Muses And The Graces, But An Old, Mouldering House, Full Of Gloom And Haunted By Ghosts.

Dead He Is Not, But Departed, For The Artist Never Dies.

What Shall I Say To You? What Can I Say Better Than Silence Is?

From Dust Thou Art To Dust Returneth, Was Not Spoken Of The Soul.