Teaching is not filling up a pail, it is lighting a fire.

Cast a cold eye on life, on death Horseman pass by

That beautiful mild woman for whose sake There's many a one shall find out all heartache On finding that her voice is sweet and low Replied, 'To be born a woman is to know- Although they do not talk of it at school - That we must labor to be beautiful.

The true faith discovered was When painted panel, statuary, Glass-mosaic, window-glass, Amended what was told awry By some peasant gospeler.

Poet and sculptor, do the work, / Nor let the modish painter shirk

I think you can leave the arts, superior or inferior, to the conscience of mankind.

Only that which does not teach, which does not cry out, which does not condescend, which does not explain, is irresistible.