"What is that gold-colored mark on the side, like a cascade?"

"That is a firework."

"Do you think now," said the Attorney-General, insinuatingly, "you
could make me see the beauty of that picture?"

"No," said Whistler, after closely scrutinizing his questioner's face.
"Do you know, I fear it would be as hopeless as for the musician to
pour his notes into a deaf man's ear."

"What is that structure in the middle?" asked the irritated attorney.
"Is it a telescope or a fire-escape? Is it like Battersea Bridge? What
are the figures at the top? If they are horses and carts, how in the
name of fortune are they to get off?"

* * * * *

A friend who was in court when the farthing damages verdict was
brought in relates that Whistler looked puzzled for a moment; then his
face cleared. "That's a verdict for me, is it not?" he asked; and when
his counsel said, "Yes, nominally," Whistler replied, "Well, I suppose
a verdict is a verdict." Then he said, "It's a great triumph; tell
everybody it's a great triumph." When the listener dissented, he
condensed all his concentrated scorn of Philistine view into a
sentence: "My dear S., you are just fit to serve on a British jury."

* * * * *

"Whistler _vs._ Ruskin" cost the latter so much more than the farthing