Life Delights In Life.

To My Eye Rubens' Colouring Is Most Contemptible. His Shadows Are A Filthy Brown Somewhat The Colour Of Excrement.

Joy And Woe Are Woven Fine, A Clothing For The Soul Divine. Under Every Grief And Pine Runs A Joy With Silken Twine.

I Was In A Printing-house In Hell, And Saw The Method In Which Knowledge Is Transmitted From Generation To Generation.

Where There Is Money There Is No Art.

It Is An Easy Thing To Talk Of Patience To The Afflicted.