| C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917. | | | | Michael Angelo |
| | | | Love lent me wings; my path was like a stair; |
| A lamp unto my feet, that sun was given; |
| And death was safety and great joy to find; |
| But dying now, I shall not climb to Heaven. |
| 1 |
| | The stone unhewn and cold |
| Becomes a living mould, |
| The more the marble wastes |
| The more the statue grows. |
| 2 |
| Art is a jealous thing; it requires the whole and entire man. | 3 |
| Beauty is the purgation of superfluities. | 4 |
| Death and love are the two wings which bear man from earth to heaven. | 5 |
| I carry my satchel still. | 6 |
| I criticise by creation, not by finding fault. | 7 |
| If life be a pleasure, yet, since death also is sent by the hand of the same Master, neither should that displease us. | 8 |
| The hand that follows intellect can achieve. | 9 |
| The more the marble wastes, the more the statue grows. | 10 |
| The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection. | 11 |
| Trifles make perfection; but perfection is no trifle. | 12 | | |
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