I Live And Love In God's Peculiar

Love Lent Me Wings; My Path Was Like A Stair; A Lamp Unto My Feet, That Sun Was Given; And Death Was Safety And Great Joy To Find; But Dying Now, I Shall Not Climb To Heaven.

A Man Paints With His Brains And Not With His Hands.

Beauty Depends On Purpose. It Is In The Elements Best Suited To Their Purpose Or Aim That Beauty Shines Forth Most Strongly.

The Sculpture Is Already Complete Within The Marble Block, Before I Start My Work. It Is Already There, I Just Have To Chisel Away The Superfluous Material.

Painters Are Not In Any Way Unsociable Through Pride, But Either Because They Find Few Pursuits Equal To Painting, Or In Order Not To Corrupt Themselves With The Useless Conversation Of Idle People, And Debase The Intellect From The Lofty Imaginations In Which They Are Always Absorbed.