“Summer — summer — summer! The soundless footsteps on the grass!”

And to be stolen away from ourselves by Art is a momentary relaxation from that itching, a minute’s profound, and as it were secret, enfranchisement.

Come! Let us lay a lance in rest, And tilt at windmills under a wild sky!

The young man who, at the end of September, 1924, dismounted from a taxicab in South Square,

It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his arms to embrace he knows not what.

The law is what it is-a majestic edifice, sheltering all of us, each stone of which rests on another.

To dislike the clothes and voices of other men – all this was precious to her beyond everything.

It`s always worth while before you do anything to consider whether it`s going to hurt another person more than is absolutely necessary.

Art is the one form of human energy in the whole world, which really works for union, and destroys the barriers between man and man.

There are moments when Nature reveals the passion hidden beneath the careless calm of her ordinary moods-violent spring flashing white on almond-blossom through the purple clouds.

It’s not life that counts but the fortitude you bring into it.

One’s eyes are what one is, one’s mouth is what one becomes.

I am still under the impression that there is nothing alive quite so beautiful as a thoroughbred horse.

The bicycle… has been responsible for more movement in manners and morals than anything since Charles the Second.

Take modern courtships! They resulted in the same thing as under George the Second, but took longer to reach it, owing to the motor-cycle and the standing lunch.

The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy.

A man is the sum of his actions, of what he has done, of what he can do, Nothing else.

The reason I make art is because I get to make a choice about who I am, what I do, and what I put out into the world, the footsteps I leave behind.

Last but not least my family. My brother Tony, I love you. Thank you for beating me up when I was a kid. I always wanted to follow in your footsteps.

A lost road will remember your footsteps because someday you may want to return, tracing the way.