Man has to pick up the use of his functions as he goes along- especially the function of Love.

Love is always being given where it is not required.

What is wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the man who wrote.

Works of art, in my opinion, are the only objects in the material universe to possess internal order, and that is why, though I don't believe that only art matters, I do believe in Art for Art's sake.

Long books, when read, are usually overpraised, because the reader wishes to convince others and himself that he has not wasted his time.

It makes a difference doesn't it, whether we fully fence ourselves in, or whether we are fenced out by the barriers of others?

When that strange race nears the dust and is condemned as untouchable, then nature remembers the physical perfection that she accomplished elsewhere, and throws out a god-not many, but one here and there, to prove to society how little its categories impress her.