Artists Are Fiery; They Do

If I Contemplate Myself As Part Of The Universe: What Am I?

She Was Such A Good Loving Mother, My Best Friend. Oh, Who Was Happier Than I When I Could Still Say The Dear Name "mother," And It Was Heard, And Whom Can I Say It To Now?

One Must Not Hold One's Self So Divine As To Be Unwilling Occasionally To Make Improvements In One's Creations.

There Ought To Be Only One Large Art Warehouse In The World, To Which The Artist Could Carry His Art-works And From Which He Could Carry Away Whatever He Needed. As It Is One Must Be Half A Tradesman.

You're A Happy Fellow, For You'll Give Happiness And Joy To Many Other People. There Is Nothing Better Or Greater Than That.