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Moore, George (George Augustus), 1852-1933

"Memoirs of My Dead Life"

Ingres and Antiquity alone knew
how to simplify. There is little, but that little is so correct that
detail is unnecessary, and I exulted in remembrance of the dainty
design of the belly, half hidden, half revealed by little liquid
folds. "How exquisite," I said, "is that thigh! how well it advances!
And we poor moderns have lived upon that beauty now well-nigh two
thousand years? But how vainly we have attempted to imitate that
drapery flowing about the ankles, like foam breaking on the crest of a
wave." A slender youth stands next; his shoulders are raised, for the
pipes are to his lips, his feet are drawn close together, and by him a
satyr dances wildly, clashing cymbals as he dances. He is followed, I
think--it is difficult to say whether this be a recollection of
another vase or whether the figure is included in the same group--by a
faun tempting the teeth and claws of a panther with a bunch of grapes.
And it was this winsome faun that decided me to select this vase as
the repository of my ashes. And I determined to stipulate in my will
that this vase be chosen. But my will must not be too complicated,
otherwise it might be contested. All that is not common can easily be
argued to be madness by a loquacious lawyer before a stupid jury.


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