There may be a great fire in our hearts, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.

One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever came to sit by it. Passers-by see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on their way.

There may be a great fire in our soul, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.

An artist needn't be a clergyman or a churchwarden, but he certainly must have a warm heart for his fellow men.

I see drawings and pictures in the poorest of huts and the dirtiest of corners.

Great things are done by a series of small things brought together.