What is a great life but a youthful intention carried out in maturity?

Doubt is the freedom of thought. Any claim to truth can be doubted.

We shall find in our troubled hearts, where discord reigns, two needs which seem at variance, but which merge, as I think, in a common source - the love of the true, and the love of the fabulous.

Hope is the biggest of our foolish things.

Of late years (perhaps as a result of our political changes) art has borrowed from history more than ever.

Do you know that charming part of our country which has been called the garden of France - that spot where, amid verdant plains watered by wide streams, one inhales the purest air of heaven?

What is the use of theorizing as to wherein lies the charm that moves us?