One Never Paints Violently Enough.

Perhaps The Sketch Of A Work Is So Pleasing Because Everyone Can Finish It As He Chooses.

They Say That Each Generation Inherits From Those That Have Gone Before; If This Were So There Would Be No Limit To Man's Improvements Or To His Power Of Reaching Perfection. But He Is Very Far From Receiving Intact That Storehouse Of Knowledge Which The Centuries Have Piled Up Before Him; He May Perfect Some Inventions, But In Others, He Lags Behind The Originators, And A Great Many Inventions Have Been Lost Entirely. What He Gains On The One Hand, He Loses On The Other.

Of Which Beauty Will You Speak? There Are Many: There Are A Thousand: There Is One For Every Look, For Every Spirit, Adapted To Each Taste, To Each Particular Constitution.

The Source Of Genius Is Imagination Alone.

Curiously Enough, The Sublime Is Generally Achieved Through Want Of Proportion.