No marvel then though some men, and some good men too perhaps, but young in goodness, as Joshua then was, envy them. --It is religion, Dante said again. The artist, like the God of creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails. No attempt, nonetheless, could well require more tact than just this attempt to supply, one's self, ALL the nature.
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