The Greatest Artist Has No Conception Which

And Who Is So Barbarous As Not To Understand That The Foot Of A Man Is Nobler Than His Shoe, And His Skin Nobler Than That Of The Sheep With Which He Is Clothed.

For Those Who Feel It, Nothing Makes The Soul So Religious And Pure As The Endeavor To Create Something Perfect; For God Is Perfection, And Whoever Strives After It, Is Striving After Something Divine. True Painting Is Only The Image Of The Perfection Of God, A Shadow Of The Pencil With Which He Paints, A Melody, A Striving After Harmony.

If In My Youth I Had Realized That The Sustaining Splendour Of Beauty Of With Which I Was In Love Would One Day Flood Back Into My Heart, There To Ignite A Flame That Would Torture Me Without End, How Gladly Would I Have Put Out The Light In My Eyes.

Art Is A Jealous Thing; It Requires The Whole And Entire Man.

Is It Any Wonder, Since, When Near The Fire, I Was Melted And Burned, If Now That It's Extinguished Outside Me, It Besets And Consumes Me Inside, And Bit By Bit Reduces Me To Ashes?