The Christian Religion, Though Scattered And Abroad

We Have Time Enough If We But Use It Aright

Blood Is A Very Special Juice.

Words Are Mere Sound And Smoke, Dimming The Heavenly Light.

The Passions Are Like Those Demons With Which Afrasahiab Sailed Down The Orus. Our Only Safety Consists In Keeping Them Asleep. If They We Are Lost.

The True, Prescriptive Artist Strives After Artistic Truth; The Lawless Artist, Following Blind Instinct, After An Appearance Of Naturalness. The One Leads To The Highest Peaks Of Art, The Other To Its Lowest Depths.