anonymous-poet

January 30, 2025

Pride is his pity, artifice his praise
A mask his virtue, and his fame a blaze;
Insult his charity, his friendship fear,
And nothing but his vanity, sincere.

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Thought:

“I made sometimes pictures which were not up to my standard, but then it can only be said about a mediocrity that all his works live up to his standard.“

Ernst Lubitsch

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