Photographers, You Will Never Become Artists. All

For Me, Romanticism Is The Most Recent And The Most Current Expression Of Beauty.

How Bittersweet It Is, On Winter's Night, To Listen, By The Sputtering, Smoking Fire, As Distant Memories, Through The Fog-dimmed Light, Rise, To The Muffled Chime Of Churchbell Choir.

Progress, This Great Heresy Of Decay.

Where One Should See Only What Is Beautiful, Our Public Looks Only For What Is True.

J'ai Plus De Souvenirs Que Si J'avais Mille Ans. Ihavemorememoriesthanifiwereonethousandyearsold.