I Am Only A Picture-taster, The Way

[describing His House:] It Is A Library With Living Rooms Attached.

A Complete Life May Be One Ending In So Full An Identification With The Oneself That There Is No Self Left To Die.

It Was A Morning In Early Summer. A Silver Haze Shimmered And Trembled Over The Lime Trees. The Air Was Laden With Their Fragrance. The Temperature Was Like A Caress. I Remember - I Need Not Recall - That I Climbed Up A Tree Stump And Felt Suddenly Immersed In Itness. I Did Not Call It By That Name. I Had No Need For Words. It And I Were One.

No Artifact Is A Work Of Art If It Does Not Help To Humanize Us. Without Art...our World Would Have Remained A Jungle.

Not What Man Knows But What Man Feels, Concerns Art. All Else Is Science.