If in my youth I had realized that the sustaining splendour of beauty of with which I was in love would one day flood back into my heart, there to ignite a flame that would torture me without end, how gladly would I have put out the light in my eyes.

If it be true that any beautiful thing raises the pure and just desire of man from earth to God, the eternal fount of all, such I believe my love.

Trifles make perfection, and perfection is no trifle.

A great sculpture can roll down a hill without breaking.

Perfection is no small thing, but it is made up of small things.

A man paints with his brains and not with his hands.

It is therefore indisputable that the limbs of architecture are derived from the limbs of man.