Think With Awe On The Slow And

The Painter Is, As To The Execution Of His Work, A Mechanic; But As To His Conception And Spirit And Design He Is Hardly Below Even The Poet.

O Tender Yearning, Sweet Hoping! The Golden Time Of First Love! The Eye Sees The Open Heaven, The Heart Is Intoxicated With Bliss; O That The Beautiful Time Of Young Love Could Remain Green Forever.

As Freely As The Firmament Embraces The World, Or The Sun Pours Forth Impartially His Beams, So Mercy Must Encircle Both Friend And Foe.

He That Is Overcautious Will Accomplish Little.

I Follow My Heart, For I Can Trust It.