(H)ope, be it never so faint, bringeth a gleam into darkness, like a little rushlight that costeth but a groat.
For ages past the Genius of Literature and the Genius of Art have walked together hand in hand. For the Goddess of letters is blind, and only she of Art can lend her sight.
A good deal of large and rather interesting work is drifting my way.
So passed the seasons then, so they pass now, and so they will pass in time to come, while we come and go like leaves of the tree that fall and are soon forgotten.
I am of use to the younger artists through the advice and criticism which I give them.
Don't take my criticisms as iron-clad rules but more as suggestions.
An I must drink sour ale, I must, but never have I yielded me to man before, and that without wound or mark upon my body. Nor, when I bethink me, will I yield now.
I managed to potter along tolerably well in the morning, sitting in the sun and sketching the old buildings... but in the afternoon, sitting in the shade... with stiff fingers and chilled bones... the water froze in little cakes all over the picture.
I should like to make myself free to all who care to attend my lectures.
I doubt if there is a single really excellent art school now available in New York.