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| John Singer Sargent Miss Cara Burch 1888 oil on canvas New Britain Museum of American Art, Connecticut |
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| John Singer Sargent Portrait of Isabella Stewart Gardner 1888 oil on canvas Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston |
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| John Singer Sargent Lady Helen Vincent, Viscountess d'Abernon 1904 oil on canvas Birmingham Museum of Art, Alabama |
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| John Singer Sargent Study of Mrs Hugh Hammersley 1892 oil on canvas New Britain Museum of American Art, Connecticut |
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| Tony Urquhart A Forgotten Trip 1977 ink and gouache on paper Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick |
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| Tony Urquhart Box Design 1988 ink and watercolor on paper Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick |
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| Tony Urquhart Box Fantasy with Palms 2004 ink and watercolor on paper Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick |
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| Tony Urquhart Study for Dark Niche 2003 ink and watercolor on paper Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick |
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| Walker Evans Paul Grotz ca. 1931 gelatin silver print New Orleans Museum of Art |
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| Walker Evans Porch of the Maidens Museum of Science and Industry, Chicago ca. 1945 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Walker Evans Self Portrait ca. 1930 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
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| Walker Evans Young Girl ca. 1936 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Rembrandt Portrait of a Man ca. 1632 oil on panel Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna |
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| Rembrandt Portrait of a Man sharpening a Quill 1632 oil on panel Museumslandschaft Hessen Kassel |
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| Rembrandt Maurits Huygens, Secretary to the Council of State 1632 oil on panel Hamburger Kunsthalle |
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| Rembrandt Young Man with a Sword ca. 1635-45 oil on panel North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh |
from Part Three of The Age of Anxiety
Quant says:
In the smoking cars all seats are taken
By melancholics mewed in their dumps,
Elegant old-school ex-lieutenants
Cashiered for shuddering, short blowhards,
Thwarted geniuses in threadbare coats,
Once well-to-do's at their wits' end,
And underpaid agents of underground powers,
The faded and failing in flight towards town.
Rosetta says:
Just visible but vague,
Way down below us lies
The world of hares and hounds,
Open to our contempt.
Escaping by our skill
Its public prison, we
Could love ourselves and live
In just anarchic joy.
Quant says:
The parlor cars and Pullmans are packed also
With scented assassins, salad-eaters
Who murder on milk, merry expressives,
Pert pyknics with pumpkin heads,
Clever cardinals with clammy hands,
Jolly logicians with juvenile books,
Farmers, philistines, filles-de-joies,
The successful smilers the city can use.
Rosetta says:
What fear of freedom then
Causes our clasping hands
To make in miniature
That earth anew, and now
By choice instead of chance
To suffer from the same
Attraction and untruth,
Suspicion and respect?
Quant says:
What mad oracle could have made us believe
The capital will be kind when the country is not,
And value our vanities, provide our souls
With play and pasture and permanent water?
– W.H. Auden (1944-46)