There Is A Logic Of Colors, And

My Nervous System Is Enfeebled, Only Work In Oils Can Sustain Me.

Michelangelo Is A Constructor, And Rafael An Artist Who, Great As He Is, Is Always Limited By The Model. When He Tries To Be Thoughtful He Falls Below The Niveau Of His Great Rival.

Everything Is About To Disappear. You've Got To Hurry Up If You Still Want To See Things.

You Have No Idea How Life-giving It Is To Find Around One A Youth That Agrees Not To Bury One On The Spot.

The Landscape Thinks Itself In Me And I Am Its Consciousness.