I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence and memory trace of past events, as the snail leaves its slime.

Death is a friend of ours; and he that is not ready to entertain him is not at home.

It is the wisdom of the crocodiles, that shed tears when they would devour.

The poets did well to conjoin music and medicine, in Apollo, because the office of medicine is but to tune the curious harp of man's body and reduce it to harmony.

Whatever you can, count.

Nothing doth more hurt in a state than that cunning men pass for wise.

Money is a great servant but a bad master.