Love Is A Beautiful Image Imagined Or

If In My Youth I Had Realized That The Sustaining Splendour Of Beauty Of With Which I Was In Love Would One Day Flood Back Into My Heart, There To Ignite A Flame That Would Torture Me Without End, How Gladly Would I Have Put Out The Light In My Eyes.

In Every Block Of Marble I See A Statue As Plain As Though It Stood Before Me, Shaped And Perfect In Attitude And Action. I Have Only To Hew Away The Rough Walls That Imprison The Lovely Apparition To Reveal It To The Other Eyes As Mine See It.

Can't You See The Angel Imprisoned In The Block Of Stone Trying To Get Out? I Am Trying To Free Him

The Best Of Artists Hath No Thought To Show Which The Rough Stone In Its Superfluous Shell Doth Not Include; To Break The Marble Spell Is All The Hand That Serves The Brain Can Do.

Beauty Is The Purgation Of Superfluities.