Beauty Vanishes; Virtue Is Lasting.

So Dear Night The Half Of Life Is, And The Fairest Half Indeed.

We Have Time Enough If We But Use It Aright

Sowing Is Not As Difficult As Reaping.

Old Age Is Never Honored Among Us, But Only Indulged, As Childhood Is; And Old Men Lose One Of The Most Precious Rights Of Man,--that Of Being Judged By Their Peers.

The True, Prescriptive Artist Strives After Artistic Truth; The Lawless Artist, Following Blind Instinct, After An Appearance Of Naturalness. The One Leads To The Highest Peaks Of Art, The Other To Its Lowest Depths.