The Goods Of Fortune, Even Such As

Is It Any Wonder, Since, When Near The Fire, I Was Melted And Burned, If Now That It's Extinguished Outside Me, It Besets And Consumes Me Inside, And Bit By Bit Reduces Me To Ashes?

I Am A Poor Man And Of Little Worth, Who Is Laboring In That Art That God Has Given Me In Order To Extend My Life As Long As Possible.

True Art Is Made Noble And Religious By The Mind Producing It.

Draw, Antonio; Draw, Antonio; Draw And Don’t Waste Time.

No Thought Is Born In Me That Does Not Bear The Image Of Death.