The lamp of genius burns quicker than the lamp of life.

Whoever fails to turn aside the ills of life by prudent forethought, must submit to fulfill the course of destiny.

In the case of a creative mind, it seems to me, the intellect has withdrawn its watchers from the gates, and the ideas rush in pell-mell and only then does it review and inspect the multitudes.

Man, living, feeling man, is the easy sport of the over-mastering present.

Man is an imitative creature.

What is life without the radiance of love?

Sentimental poetry differs from naive poetry in that it relates the real state at which the latter stops to ideas and applies ideas to that reality.