Trifles Make Perfection But Perfection

The True Work Of Art Is But A Shadow Of The Divine Perfection.

My Soul Can Find No Staircase To Heaven Unless It Be Through Earth's Loveliness.

I Am Still Learning. (at Age 87)

Dear To Me Is Sleep: Still More, Being Made Of Stone, While Pain And Guilt Still Linger Here Below, Blindness And Numbness--these Please Me Alone; Then Do Not Wake Me, Keep Your Voices Low.

Death And Love Are The Two Wings That Bear The Good Man To Heaven.