Cats Are The Tigers Of Us Poor

Art Is Beauty, The Perpetual Invention Of Detail, The Choice Of Words, The Exquisite Care Of Execution.

Who Can Believe That There Is No Soul Behind Those Luminous Eyes!

It May Well Be That The Pictures Of Courbet, Manet, Monet And Their Like Contain Beauties Which Escape The Notice Of Such Old Romantic Heads As Ours, Already Streaked With Silver Threads.

[great Artists] Do Not Copy What They See, But What They Desire.

Good Heavens! What A Foolish Thing Is This Pretended Perfectibility Of The Human Race Which Is Continually Being Dinned Into Our Ears!