any one of them. He planned to make a wonderful colossal statue on a
cliff near Carrara, and also he resolved to make the tomb of Julius
the nucleus of a "forest of statues."

Michael Angelo never married, but he was burdened with a family and
all its cares. He supported his brothers and even his nephews, and
took care of his father. All of those people came to him with their
difficulties and with their demands for money. He chided, quarreled,
repelled, yet met every obligation. He would sit beside the sick-bed
of a servant the night through, but growl at the demands of his near
relatives--and it is not unlikely that he had good reason.

At last he withdrew himself from all human society but that of little
children, whom he cared to speak with and to please. He would have
naught to do with men of genius like himself; and when he fell from a
scaffolding and injured himself, the physician had to force his way
through a barred window, in order to get into the sick man's presence
to serve him.

An illustration of his determined solitude is given in the "Young
People's Story of Art:"

"There had long been lying idle in Florence an immense block of
marble. One hundred years before a sculptor had tried to carve
something from it, but had failed. This was now given to Michael
Angelo. He was to be paid twelve dollars a month, and to be allowed
two years in which to carve a statue. He made his design in wax; and
then built a tower around the block, so that he might work inside
without being seen."