He Who Cannot Draw On Three Thousand

It Is With Art As With Love: How Can A Man Of The World,with All His Distractions, Keep The Inwardness Which An Artist Must Possess If He Hopes To Attain Perfection? That Inwardness Which The Spectator Must Share If He Is To Understand The Work As The Artist Wishes And Hopes... Believe Me, Talents Are Like Virtues; Either You Must Love Them For Their Own Sake Or Renounce Them Altogether. And They Are Only Recognized And Rewarded When We Have Practised Them In Secret, Like A Dangerous Mystery."

Wealth And Speed Are What The World Admires, What Each Pursues. Railways, Express Mails, Steamships And Every Possible Facility For Communications Are The Achievement In Which The Civilized World View And Revels, Only To Languish In Mediocrity By That Very Fact. Indeed, The Effect Of This Diffusion Is To Spread The Culture Of The Mediocre.

As Beauteous Is The World, And Many A Joy Floats Through Its Wide Dominion. But, Alas, When We Would Seize The Winged Good, It Flies.

Over All The Mountain Tops Is Peace. In All Treetops You Perceive Scarcely A Breath. The Little Birds In The Forest Are Silent. Wait Then; Soon, You Too, Will Have Peace.

The Woman-soul Leadeth Us Upward And On!