In that book which is my memory, On the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you, Appear the words, ‘Here begins a new life’.

As phantoms frighten beasts when shadows fall.

Conscience, that boon companion who sets a man free under the strong breastplate of innocence, that bids him on and fear not.

O you proud Christians, wretched souls and small,/ Who by the dim lights of your twisted minds/ Believe you prosper even as you fall,/ Can you not see that we are worms, each one/ Born to become the angelic butterfly/ That flies defenseless to the Judgement Throne?

Art, as far as it is able, follows nature, as a pupil imitates his master; thus your art must be, as it were, God's grandchild.

I love to doubt as well as know.

Worldly fame is but a breath of wind that blows now this way, and now that, and changes name as it changes direction.