A place has almost the shyness of a person, with strangers; and its secret is not to be surprised by a too direct interrogation.

Vaguely conscious of that great suspense in which we live, we find our escape from its sterile, annihilating reality in many dreams, in religion, passion, art.

Art begins when a man wishes to immortalize the most vivid moment he has ever lived.

He knew that the whole mystery of beauty can never be comprehended by the crowd, and that while clearness is a virtue of style, perfect explicitness is not a necessary virtue.

It is in their eyes that their magic resides.

What we ask of him is, that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves... He must have the passion of a lover.

Criticism is properly the rod of divination: a hazel switch for the discovery of buried treasure, not a birch twig for the castigation of offenders.