Art compares to nature like wine to the grape.
From a distance the rushing of the torrent delights and uplifts us, but it rocks us in a flimsy boat, we are overwhelmed by despair. The same applies to danger.
I would love to be able to write a tragedy in my imagination--it would turn into a masterpiece.
Do you call the jewel blind, because your eye is?
Robespierre, this pedant of freedom!
Finally and long overdue, your people, oppressed and disgraced by hatred and maliciousness, have achieved justice: now you enjoy full citizen's rights, but you'll remain Jews nonetheless.