To the man who loves art for its own sake, it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived.

No man burdens his mind with small matters unless he has some very good reason for doing so.

But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things.

There is a mystery about this which stimulates the imagination; where there is no imagination there is no horror.

What a lovely thing a rose is!

Have you tried to drive a harpoon through a body? No? Tut, tut, my dear sir, you must really pay attention to these details.

We have much to hope from the flowers.