I Confess I Do Not

Love A Friend, Love A Wife, Something, Whatever You Like, But One Must Love With A Lofty And Serious Intimate Sympathy, With Strength, With Intelligence, And One Must Always Try To Know Deeper, Better, And More.

Oh! I Must Somehow Manage To Do A Figure In A Few Strokes.

One Must Never Let The Fire Go Out In One's Soul, But Keep It Burning.

To Express A Marriage Of Two Complementary Colors, Their Mingling And Their Opposition, The Mysterious Vibrations Of Kindred Tones.

In Trees, I See Expression And Soul