There is no Mystery so great as Misery.
Nothing really at any period of my life was ever of the smallest importance to me compared with Art. But in the case of an artist, weakness is nothing less than a crime, when it is a weakness that paralyses the imagination.
But the picture? What was he to say of that? It held the secret of his life, and told his story. It had taught him to love his own beauty. Would it teach him to loathe his own soul? Would he ever look at it again?
A genius in the daytime and a beauty at night!
I don't desire to change anything in England except the weather, I am quite content with philosophical contemplation.
Indifference is the revenge the world takes on mediocrities.