We watch the body, the waving of his arms, we see him bend down, stand up, hesitate, begin again. It may add to the charm of an idle hour to be told the purpose of his exertions. We understood his object, and, after all, the fellow has tried, and perhaps he had not the strength-and perhaps he had not the knowledge. We forgive, go on our way-and forget. And so it is with the workman of art.
Art is long and life is short, and success is very far off.
It is not less great, but only more difficult.