One Paints With One's Head, Not One's

The Marble Not Yet Carved Can Hold The Form Of Every Thought The Greatest Artist Has.

Why Do You Send Fools To Judge My Work?

The Mind, The Soul, Becomes Ennobled By The Endeavour To Create Something Perfect, For God Is Perfection, And Whoever Strives After Perfection Is Striving For Something Devine.

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.

The Promises Of This World Are, For The Most Part, Vain Phantoms; And To Confide In One's Self, And Become Something Of Worth And Value Is The Best And Safest Course.