Signatures Of All Things I Am Here

This Race And This Country And This Life Produced Me, He Said. I Shall Express Myself As I Am.

The Artist Who Could Disentangle The Subtle Soul Of The Image From Its Mesh Of Defining Circumstances Most Exactly And 're-embody' It In Artistic Circumstances Chosen As The Most Exact For It In Its New Office, He Was The Supreme Artist.

The Artist, Like The God Of The Creation, Remains Within Or Behind Or Beyond Or Above His Handiwork, Invisible, Refined Out Of Existence, Indifferent, Paring His Fingernails.

Old Father, Old Artificer, Stand Me Now And Ever In Good Stead.

His Eyes Were Dimmed With Tears And, Looking Humbly Up To Heaven, He Wept For The Innocence He Had Lost.