I Am A Poor Man And Of

He Who Does Not Master The Nude Cannot Understand The Principles Of Architecture.

Your Greatness Is Measured By Your Horizons.

Dear To Me Is Sleep: Still More, Being Made Of Stone, While Pain And Guilt Still Linger Here Below, Blindness And Numbness--these Please Me Alone; Then Do Not Wake Me, Keep Your Voices Low.

After Four Tortured Years, More Than 400 Over Life-sized Figures, I Felt As Old And As Weary As Jeremiah. I Was Only 37, Yet Friends Did Not Recognize The Old Man I Had Become.

As You Give Out, So Shall You Receive.