Do you love your mother? Stephen shook his head slowly. "Then you HAVE known him--?" "Yes indeed, miss, thank God!" On reflection I accepted this. To speak of these things and to try to understand their nature and, having understood it, to try slowly and humbly and constantly to express, to press out again, from the gross earth or what it brings forth, from sound and shape and colour which are the prison gates of our soul, an image of the beauty we have come to understand--that is art. " I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.