Though It Might Have Its Momentary Alarms,

It Is Art That Makes Life, Makes Interest, Makes Importance, For Our Consideration And Application Of These Things, And I Know Of No Substitute Whatever For The Force And Beauty Of Its Process.

To Treat A Big Subject In The Intensely Summarized Fashion Demanded By An Evening's Traffic Of The Stage When The Evening, Freely Clipped At Each End, Is Reduced To Two Hours And A Half, Is A Feat Of Which The Difficulty Looms Large.

She Had Always Been Fond Of History, And Here [in Rome] Was History In The Stones Of The Street And The Atoms Of The Sunshine.

Her Memory's Your Love. You Want No Other.

Really, Universally, Relations Stop Nowhere, And The Exquisite Problem Of The Artist Is Eternally But To Draw, By A Geometry Of His Own, The Circle Within Which They Shall Happily Appear To Do So.