When Nations Grow Old The Arts Grow

A Robin Redbreast In A Cage Puts All Heaven In A Rage.

The Human Mind Cannot Go Beyond The Gift Of God, The Holy Ghost. To Suppose That Art Can Go Beyond The Finest Specimens Of Art That Are Now In The World Is Not Knowing What Art Is; It Is Being Blind To The Gifts Of The Spirit.

Little Fly, Thy Summer's Play My Thoughtless Hand Has Brushed Away. Am Not I A Fly Like Thee? Or Art Not Thou A Man Like Me? For I Dance And Drink And Sing, Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing!

The Wrath Of The Lion Is The Wisdom Of God.

The Man Who Pretends To Be A Modest Enquirer Into The Truth Of A Self-evident Thing Is A Knave.