Reveal Art; Conceal The Artist.

Talent Is Long Patience.

Woman Is A Vulgar Animal From Whom Man Has Created An Excessively Beautiful Ideal.

Art Is Nothing Without Form.

Didn't Love, Like A Plant From India, Require A Prepared Soil, A Particular Temperature? Sighs In The Moonlight, Long Embraces, Tears Flowing Over Hands Yielded To A Lover, All The Fevers Of The Flesh And The Languors Of Tenderness Thus Could Not Be Separated From The Balconies Of Great Châteaux Filled With Idle Amusements, A Boudoir With Silk Blinds, A Good Thick Carpet, Full Of Pots Of Flowers, And A Bed Raised On A Dais, Nor From The Sparkle Of Precious Stones And Shoulder Knots On Servants' Livery.

One Arrives At Style Only With Atrocious Effort, With Fanatical And Devoted Stubbornness.