Treasures are no longer to be got by instrumental art.

My imagination can picture no fairer happiness than to continue living for art.

I wish to lead a life free from care, and I see that I shall be unhappy if I cannot always work at my art.

Why hurry over beautiful things? Why not linger and enjoy them?

I do not want horses or diamonds - I am happy in possessing you.

Is an artist much more than a beggar?