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| Ilse Bing Self Portrait 1945 gelatin silver print High Museum of Art, Atlanta |
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| Italo Cremona Interior 1941 oil on canvas Galleria Sabauda, Turin |
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| Diamantis Diamantopoulos Plasterer 1949 screenprint National Museum, Athens |
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| Yannis Tsarouhis Figure on Bed 1940 oil on canvas National Museum, Athens |
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| Max Beckmann Odysseus and Calypso 1943 oil on canvas Hamburger Kunsthalle |
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| Yasuo Kuniyoshi Mother and Daughter 1945 oil on canvas Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh |
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| Giovanni Colacicchi St Sebastian 1943 oil on canvas Palazzo Pitti, Florence |
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| Jared French Evasion 1947 tempera on canvas, mounted on panel Cleveland Museum of Art, Ohio |
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| Keith Vaughan Nude in Landscape 1948 oil on canvas Princeton University Art Museum |
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| Philip Pearlstein Double Portrait of the Artist's Parents 1943 oil on masonite Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh |
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| Asger Jorn Plunk 1940 oil on board Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh |
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| Hans Arp Head with Claws 1949 bronze Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| Henry Moore Three Figures 1948 drawing, with watercolor Cincinnati Art Museum, Ohio |
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| Willem Hofhuizen Self Portrait 1940 oil on panel Bonnefantenmuseum, Maastricht |
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| Anton Kolig S'Ottole 1941 oil on board Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| Henri Matisse Asia 1946 oil on canvas Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas |
For this one thing above all I would be praised as a man,
That in my words and my deeds I have kept those laws in mind
Olympian Zeus, and that high clear Empyrean,
Fashioned, and not some man or people of mankind,
Even those sacred laws nor age nor sleep can blind.
A man becomes a tyrant out of insolence,
He climbs and climbs, until all people call him great,
He seems upon the summit, and God flings him thence;
Yet an ambitious man may lift up a whole State,
A man becomes a tyrant out of insolence,
He climbs and climbs, until all people call him great,
He seems upon the summit, and God flings him thence;
Yet an ambitious man may lift up a whole State,
And in his death be blessed, in his life fortunate.
And all men honour such; but should a man forget
The holy images, the Delphian Sibyl's trance,
And the world's navel-stone, and not be punished for it,
And seem most fortunate, or even blessed perchance,
Why should we honour the Gods, or join the sacred dance?
The holy images, the Delphian Sibyl's trance,
And the world's navel-stone, and not be punished for it,
And seem most fortunate, or even blessed perchance,
Why should we honour the Gods, or join the sacred dance?
– Sophocles, chorus from King Oedipus (429 BC), translated by W.B. Yeats (1928)