Fall if you will, but rise you must.

Very gratefully, with grateful appreciation, with sincere appreciative gratitude, in appreciatively grateful sincerity of regret, he declined.

Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.

Thought is the thought of thought.

I have the words already. What I am seeking is the perfect order of words in the sentence. You can see for yourself how many different ways they might be arranged.

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.

The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is is another question.