The zeal of friends it is that razes me, And not the hate of enemies.
A virtuous name is the precious only good, for which queens and peasants' wives must contest together.
He that is overcautious will accomplish little.
No greater grief than to remember days of gladness when sorrow is at hand.
Utility is the great idol of the age, to which all powers must do service and all talents swear allegiance. In this great balance of utility, the spiritual service of art has no weight, and, deprived of all encouragement, it vanishes from the noisy Vanity Fair of our time.
Disappointments are to the soul what a thunderstorm is to the air.