My heart is lost; the beasts have eaten it.

It is this admirable and immortal instinct for beauty which causes us to regard the earth and its spectacles as a glimpse, a correspondence of the beyond.

What men call love is a very small, restricted, feeble thing compared with this ineffable orgy, this divine prostitution of the soul giving itself entire, all its poetry and all its charity, to the unexpected as it comes along, to the stranger as he passes.

Blessed art Thou, Lord, who giveth suffering As a divine remedy for our impurities.

The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist cries out in terror before he is defeated.

Discover day to day excitement.

Romanticism is precisely situated neither in choice of subject, nor exact truth, but in the way of feeling.