Death is the last limit of all things.

The power of daring anything their fancy suggest, as always been conceded to the painter and the poet.

A good and faithful judge ever prefers the honorable to the expedient.

I have lived: tomorrow the Father may fill the sky with black clouds or with cloudless sunshine.

"Painters and poets," you say, "have always had an equal license in bold invention." We know; we claim the liberty for ourselves and in turn we give it to others.

Seize the day, and put the least possible trust in tomorrow.

Noble descent and worth, unless united with wealth, are esteemed no more than seaweed.