Try To Be One Of The People

Make (the Reader) Think The Evil, Make Him Think It For Himself, And You Are Released From Weak Specifications. My Values Are Positively All Blanks, Save So Far As An Excited Horror, A Promoted Pity, A Created Expertness... Proceed To Read Into Them More Or Less Fantastic Figures.

Art Without Life Is A Poor Affair.

One Doesn't Defend One's God: One's God Is In Himself A Defense.

Little By Little, Even With Other Cares, The Slowly But Surely Working Poison Of The Garden-mania Begins To Stir In My Long-sluggish Veins.

The Artist Beholds In Nature More Than She Herself Nature Is Conscious Of.