The immense profundity of thought in vulgar locutions, like holes dug by generations of ants.
Whether you come from heaven or hell, what does it matter, O Beauty!
Where ever I am not is the place where I am myself.
The will to work must dominate, for art is long and time is brief.
I watch the springs, the summers, the autumns; And when comes the winter snow monotonous, I shut all the doors and shutters To build in the night my fairy palace.
Being a useful man has always seemed to me to be something truly hideous.