When we talk of leaving our childhood behind us, we might as well say that the river flowing onward to the sea had left the fountain behind.

The moment in which the spirit meets death is perhaps like the moment in which it is embraced in sleep. I suppose it never happened to any one to be conscious of the immediate transition from the waking to the sleeping state.

You must never believe what the newspapers say. I stand aghast at the impudence of the lies they contain, things not only false in fact, but absolutely impossible.

Conversation may be compared to a lyre with seven chords-philosophy, art, poetry, love, scandal, and the weather.

He that seeks popularity in art closes the door on his own genius: as he must needs paint for other minds, and not for his own.

Never yet were the feelings and instincts of our nature violated with impunity; never yet was the voice of conscience silenced without retribution.

As the rolling stone gathers no moss, so the roving heart gathers no affections.