Ability Without Honor Has No Value.

The Virtue Of Art Lies In Detachment, In Sequestering One Object From The Embarrassing Variety. Until One Thing Comes Out From Theconnection Of Things, There Can Be Enjoyment, Contemplation, But No Thought.

An Action Is The Perfection And Publication Of Thought. A Right Action Seems To Fill The Eye, And To Be Related To All Nature.

The World Is His Who Has Money To Go Over It.

Circles, Like The Soul, Are Neverending And Turn Round And Round Without A Stop.

We Lie In The Lap Of Immense Intelligence.