If A Thing Loves, It Is Infinite.

Without Contraries There Is No Progression.

You Never Know What Is Enough Unless You Know What Is More Than Enough.

To My Eye Rubens' Colouring Is Most Contemptible. His Shadows Are A Filthy Brown Somewhat The Colour Of Excrement.

Grown Old In Love From Seven Till Seven Times Seven,i Oft Have Wished For Hell For Ease From Heaven.

When The Voices Of Children Are Heard On The Greenand Laughing Is Heard On The Hill,my Heart Is At Rest Within My Breastand Everything Else Is Still.