The body too has its rights; and it will have them: they cannot be trampled on without peril. The body ought to be the soul's best friend. Many good men however have neglected to make it such: so it has become a fiend and has plagued them.

Most painters have painted themselves. So have most poets: not so palpably indeed, but more assiduously. Some have done nothing else.

There is as much difference between good poetry and fine verses, as between the smell of a flower-garden and of a perfumer's shop.

The grand difficulty is to feel the reality of both worlds, so as to give each its due place in our thoughts and feelings, to keep our mind's eye and our heart's eye ever fixed on the land of promise, without looking away from the road along which we are to travel toward it.

Philosophy cannot raise the commonalty up to her level: so, if she is to become popular, she must sink to theirs.

The praises of others may be of use in teaching us, not what we are, but what we ought to be.

Many actions, like the Rhone, have two sources,--one pure, the other impure.