How Can This World, Which Is So

As For The Ridiculous Fear Of Making Things Below One's Potential Abilities... No, There Is The Root Of The Evil. There Is The Hiding Place Of Stupidity I Must Attack: Vain Mortal, You Are Limited By Nothing.

The Source Of Genius Is Imagination Alone, The Refinement Of The Senses That Sees What Others Do Not See, Or Sees Them Differently.

Not Only Can Color, Which Is Under Fixed Laws, Be Taught Like Music, But It Is Easier To Learn Than Drawing, Whose Elaborate Principles Cannot Be Taught.

I Live In Company With A Body, A Silent Companion, Exacting And Eternal. He It Is Who Notes That Individuality Which Is The Seal Of The Weakness Of Our Race. My Soul Has Wings, But The Brutal Jailer Is Strict.

One Must Learn To Be Grateful For One's Own Findings.