I Am A Poor Man And Of

If We Have Been Pleased With Life, We Should Not Be Displeased With Death, Since It Comes From The Hand Of The Same Master.

Read The Heart And Not The Letter For The Pen Cannot Draw Near The Good Intent.

After Four Tortured Years, More Than 400 Over Life-sized Figures, I Felt As Old And As Weary As Jeremiah. I Was Only 37, Yet Friends Did Not Recognize The Old Man I Had Become.

However Rich I May Have Been, I Have Always Lived Like A Poor Man.

Heaven-born, The Soul A Heavenward Course Must Hold; Beyond The World She Soars; The Wise Man, I Affirm, Can Find No Rest In That Which Perishes, Nor Will He Lend His Heart To Ought That Doth Time Depend