What I Have Done Cannot

I Am Carrying Out My Plan, So Long Formulated, Of Keeping A Journal. What I Most Keenly Wish Is Not To Forget That I Am Writing For Myself Alone. Thus I Shall Always Tell The Truth, I Hope, And Thus I Shall Improve Myself. These Pages Will Reproach Me For My Changes Of Mind.

A Picture Is Nothing But A Bridge Between The Soul Of The Artist And That Of The Spectator.

The Artist Who Aims At Perfection In Everything Achieves It In Nothing.

Nature Is A Dictionary; One Draws Words From It.

At A Distance This Fine Oak Seems To Be Of Ordinary Size. But If I Place Myself Under Its Branches, The Impression Changes Completely: I See It As Big, And Even Terrifying In Its Bigness.