The Moor Has Done His Work, The

One Can Give Advice Comfortably From A Safe Port.

But How Is The Artist To Protect Himself Against The Corruption Of The Age Which Besets Him On All Sides?

What Is Life Without The Radiance Of Love?

Why Should I Deem Myself To Be A Chisel, When I Could Be The Artist?

Have Faith. Where'er Thy Bark Is Driven, - The Calm's Disport, The Tempest's Mirth, - Know This: God Rules The Hosts Of Heaven, The Habitants Of Earth.