Art Is The Perfection Of

Miserable Men Commiserate Not Themselves; Bowelless Unto Others, And Merciless Unto Their Own Bowels.

I Have Loved My Friends As I Do Virtue, My Soul, My God.

That Some Have Never Dreamed Is As Improbable As That Some Have Never Laughed.

There Is Musick, Even In The Beauty And The Silent Note Which Cupid Strikes, Far Sweeter Than The Sound Of An Instrument.

I Intend No Monopoly, But A Community In Learning; I Study Not For My Own Sake Only, But For Theirs That Study Not For Themselves.