It Is Impossible That Anything Will Be

He Who Resolves Never To Ransack Any Mind But His Own, Will Be Soon Reduced, From Mere Barrenness, To The Poorest Of All Imitations; He Will Be Obliged To Imitate Himself, And To Repeat What He Has Before Often Repeated.

Let Me Recommend To You Not To Have Too Great Dependence On Your Practice Or Memory, However Strong Those Impressions May Have Been Which Are There Deposited. They Are Forever Wearing Out, And Will Be At Least Obliterated, Unless They Are Continually Refreshed And Repaired.

The Value And Rank Of Every Art Is In Proportion To The Mental Labor Employed In It, Or The Mental Pleasure In Producing It.

Poetry Operates By Raising Our Curiosity, Engaging The Mind By Degrees To Take An Interest In The Event, Keeping That Event Suspended, And Surprising At Last With An Unexpected Catastrophe. The Painter's Art Is More Confined, And Has Nothing That Corresponds With, Or Perhaps Is Equivalent To, This Power And Advantage Of Leading The Mind On, Till Attention Is Totally Engaged. What Is Done By Painting, Must Be Done At One Blow; Curiosity Has Received At Once All The Satisfaction It Can Ever Have.

Less Coin, Less Care.