Art is the daughter of freedom.

There is no such thing as chance; and what seem to us merest accident springs from the deepest source of destiny.

Who dares nothing, need hope for nothing.

While the womanly god demands our veneration, the godlike woman kindles our love; but while we allow ourselves to melt in the celestial loveliness, the celestial self-sufficiency holds us back in awe.

As noble Art has survived noble nature, so too she marches ahead of it, fashioning and awakening by her inspiration. Before Truth sends her triumphant light into the depths of the heart, imagination catches its rays, and the peaks of humanity will be glowing when humid night still lingers in the valleys.

Wise to resolve, patient to perform.