The seasons shall tire and the years grow old, ere they exhaust these words: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.

We were a silent, hidden thought in the folds of oblivion, and we have become a voice that causes the heavens to tremble.

The wind may blow and then cease, and the sea shall swell and then weary, but the heart of life is a sphere quiet and serene, and the star that shines therein is fixed for evermore.

I know faces, because I look through the fabric my own eye weaves, and behold the reality beneath.

All that you see was and is for your sake. The numerous books, uncanny markings, and beautiful thoughts are the ghosts of souls who preceded you.

I'm not too much of a wild guy. I'm all about work, I'm all about studio.

I am the infinite sea, and all worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore.