The May Of Life Blooms Once And

Every Man Stamps His Value On Himself... Man Is Made Great Or Small By His Own Will.

All Things Must; Man Is The Only Creature That Wills.

The Happy Man Does Not Notice The Flight Of Time.

No Doubt The Artist Is The Child Of His Time; But Woe To Him If He Is Also Its Disciple, Or Even Its Favorite.

I Speak With The Eternal Through The Instrument Of Nature, Through The World's History: I Read The Soul Of The Artist In His Apollo.