The Soul's Rialto Hath Its

I Should Not Dare To Call My Soul My Own.

God Himself Is The Best Poet, And The Real Is His Song.

The Man, Most Man, Works Best For Men, And, If Most Men Indeed, He Gets His Manhood Plainest From His Soul: While, Obviously, This Stringent Soul Itself Obeys Our Old Rules Of Development; The Spirit Ever Witnessing In Ours, And Love, The Soul Of Soul, Within The Soul, Evolving It Sublimely.

My Patience Has Dreadful Chilblains From Standing So Long On A Monument.

Don't Get Me Wrong-painting's All Right. But Now That We Have Photography, What's The Point?