An Artist Is A Man Of Action,

Books May Be Written In All Sorts Of Places. Verbal Inspiration May Enter The Berth Of A Mariner On Board A Ship Frozen Fast In A River In The Middle Of A Town.

There Is A Taint Of Death, A Flavour Of Mortality In Lies.

We Live As We Dream - Alone. While The Dream Disappears, The Life Continues Painfully.

There Is A Subtle And Unmistakable Touch Of Love And Pride, Beyond Mere Skill, Almost An Inspiration Which Gives To All Work That Finish Which Is Almost Art - Which Is Art.

You Shall Judge A Man By His Foes As Well As By His Friends.