What Thou Lovest Well Remains.

Wars In Old Times Were Made To Get Slaves. The Modern Implement Of Imposing Slavery Is Debt.

I Ask A Wreathwhich Will Not Crush My Head. And There Is No Hurry About It; I Shall Have, Doubtless, A Boom After My Funeral, Seeing That Long Standing Increases All Things Regardless Of Quality.

The Only Thing One Can Give An Artist Is Leisure In Which To Work. To Give An Artist Leisure Is Actually To Take Part In His Creation.

My Pawing Over The Ancients And Semi-ancients Has Been One Struggle To Find Out What Has Been Done, Once And For All, Better Than It Can Ever Be Done Again, And To Find Out What Remains For Us To Do, And Plenty Does Remain, For If We Still Feel The Same Emotions As Those Who Launched A Thousand Ships, It Is Quite Certain That We Came On These Feelings Differently, Through Different Nuances, By Different Intellectual Gradations. Each Age Has Its Own Abounding Gifts Yet Only Some Ages Transmute Them Into Matters Of Duration.

Glance Is The Enemy Of Vision.