The addiction to sports, therefore, in a peculiar degree marks an arrested development in man's moral nature.

Who would dare assign to art the sterile function of imitating nature?

Nature is a temple in which living columns sometimes emit confused words. Man approaches it through forests of symbols, which observe him with familiar glances.

To the artist there is never anything ugly in nature.

To any artist, worthy of the name, all in nature is beautiful, because his eyes, fearlessly accepting all exterior truth, read there, as in an open book, all the inner truth.