Portrait of King William III by Mark Twain

I never can look at those periodical portraits in _The Galaxy_ magazine without feeling a wild, tempestuous ambition to be an artist. I have seen thousands and thousands of pictures in my time -- acres of them here and leagues of them in the galleries of Europe -- but never any that moved me as these portraits do.

There is a portrait of Monsignore Capel in the November number, now _could_ anything be sweeter than that? And there was Bismarck's, in the October number; who can look at that without being purer and stronger and nobler for it? And Thurlow and Weed's picture in the September number; I would not have died without seeing that, no, not for anything this world can give. But look back still further and recall my own likeness as printed in the August number; if I had been in my grave a thousand years when that appeared, I would have got up and visited the artist.