Whatever Trips You Make, You Must Still

The True Test Of All The Arts Is Not Solely Whether The Production Is A True Copy Of Nature, But Whether It Answers The End Of Art, Which Is To Produce A Pleasing Effect Upon The Mind.

The Greatest Man Is He Who Forms The Taste Of A Nation; The Next Greatest Is He Who Corrupts It.

The Mind Is But A Barren Soil; A Soil Which Is Soon Exhausted, And Will Produce No Crop, Or Only One, Unless It Be Continually Fertilized And Enriched With Foreign Matter.

Common Observation And A Plain Understanding Is The Source Of All Art.

You Are Never To Lose Sight Of Nature; The Instant You Do, You Are All Abroad, At The Mercy Of Every Gust Of Fashion, Without Knowing Or Seeing The Point To Which You Ought To Steer.