Let there be no mincing of comparisons in this assertion. Not Turner, not Monet, painted so directly blinding shafts of sunlight as has this Spaniard.
Liszt's so-called piano music is nothing but Chopin and brandy.
The chaste woman who teases is worse than a streetwalker.
Scratch an artist and you surprise a child.
We are all snobs of the Infinite, parvenus of the Eternal.
He dares to be a fool, and that is the first step in the direction of wisdom.