Three Silences There Are: The

We Judge Ourselves By What We Feel Capable Of Doing, While Others Judge Us By What We Have Already Done.

The Counterfeit And Counterpart Of Nature Is Reproduced In Art.

Sculpture Is More Divine, And More Like Nature, That Fashions All Her Works In High Relief, And That Is Sculpture. This Vast Ball, The Earth, Was Moulded Out Of Clay, And Baked In Fire; Men, Women, And All Animals That Breathe Are Statues, And Not Paintings.

If I Am Not Worth The Wooing, I Surely Am Not Worth The Winning!

The Trees Are White With Dust, That O'er Their Sleep Wave Their Broad Curtains In The South-wind's Breath, While Underneath Such Leafy Tents They Keep The Long, Mysterious Exodus Of Death.