The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could perceive.

If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.

For everything exists and not one sigh nor smile nor tear, one hair nor particle of dust, not one can pass away.

When I tell the truth, it is not for the sake of convincing those who do not know it, but for the sake of defending those that do.

A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage.

To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love All pray in their distress, And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness.

What has reason to do with the art of painting?