Which of you with taking thought can add to his stature one cubit?
It was the way the autumn day looked into the high windows as it waned; the way the red light, breaking at the close from under a low sombre sky, reached out in a long shaft and played over old wainscots, old tapestry, old gold, old colour.
It's time to start living the life you've imagined.
Until you try, you don't know what you can't do.
The visible world is but man turned inside out that he may be revealed to himself.
Art is nothing more than the shadow of humanity.