The Best Way To Excape His Ire

I, Painting From Myself And To Myself, Know What I Do, Am Unmoved By Men's Blame Or Their Praise Either.

Night Conceals A World But Reveals A Universe.

God Is The Perfect Poet.

You Call For Faith: I Show You Doubt, To Prove That Faith Exists. The More Of Doubt, The Stronger Faith, I Say, If Faith O'ercomes Doubt.

Autumn Wins You Best By This Its Mute Appeal To Sympathy For Its Decay.