Perchance That I Might Learn What Pity

Art Lives On Constraint And Dies Of Freedom.

Critique By Creating.

What Spirit Is So Empty And Blind, That It Cannot Recognize The Fact That The Foot Is More Noble Than The Shoe, And Skin More Beautiful Than The Garment With Which It Is Clothed?

Heaven-born, The Soul A Heavenward Course Must Hold; Beyond The World She Soars; The Wise Man, I Affirm, Can Find No Rest In That Which Perishes, Nor Will He Lend His Heart To Ought That Doth Time Depend

Even If You Are Divine, You Don't Disdain Male Consorts.