We loved with a love that was more than love.
Deep in earth my love is lying And I must weep alone.
Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear.
The mere imitation, however accurate, of what is in Nature, entitles no man to the sacred name of Artist
Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it 'the reproduction of what the Senses perceive in Nature through the veil of the soul.' The mere imitation, however accurate, of what is in Nature, entitles no man to the sacred name of 'Artist.'
The fever called "living" Is conquer'd at last.