And the first till last alshemist wrote over every square inch of the only foolscap available, his own body, till by its corrosive sublimation one continuous present tense integument slowly unfolded all marryvoising moodmoulded cyclewheeling history.

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.

To discover the mode of life or of art whereby my spirit could express itself in unfettered freedom.

He lived at a little distance from his body, regarding his own acts with doubtful side-glances. He had an odd autobiographical habit which led him to compose in his mind from time to time a short sentence about himself containing a subject in the third person and a verb in the past tense.

It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked looking-glass of a servant.

Wipe your glosses with what you know.

Ineluctable modality of the visible; at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read.