As perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me: all things leave me: You remain.

But we have been taught to see before our eyes have found out a way of seeing for themselves.

A realist, in Venice, would become a romantic by mere faithfulness to what he saw before him.

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.

I had my dreams of Venice, but nothing that I had dreamed was as impossible as what I found.

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

The making of one's life into art is, after all, the first duty and privilege of every man.