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

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

Night, a more perfect day.

And I would have, now love is over, An end to all, an end: I cannot, having been your lover Stoop to become your friend!

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.

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.