Mutum est pictura poema—A picture is a poem without words.
My alms-people are to be the ablest bodied I can find, the ablest minded I can make, and every day will be a duty ... shall stand with tools at work, mattock or flail, axe or hammer. Ruskin
My ancient but ignoble blood / Has crept through scoundrels ever since the Flood. (?)
My better half. Sir Philip Sidney. 40
My bounty is as boundless as the sea, / My love as deep; the more I give to thee, / The more I have, for both are infinite. Rom. and Jul., ii. 2.
My dame fed her hens on thanks, but they laid no eggs. Pr.
My days are in the yellow leaf; / The flowers and fruits of love are gone; / The worm, the canker, and the grief / Are mine alone. Byron.
"My family begins with me, yours ends with you." Iphicrates, when upbraided by a young aristocrat for his low birth.
My fate cries out, / And makes each petty 45 artery in this body / As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. Ham., i. 4.
My first and last secret of Art is to get a thorough intelligence of the fact to be painted, represented, or, in whatever way, set forth—the fact deep as Hades, high as heaven, and written so, as to the visual face of it on this poor earth. Carlyle.