The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden a dim twilight and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels but I have seen thee and thou art enough.
A man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.
But the wicked passions of men's hearts alone seem strong enough to leave...
Painting is silent poetry and poetry is painting that speaks.
