Man is made of ordinary things, and habit is his nurse.

It hinders the creative work of the mind if the intellect examines too closely the ideas as they pour in.

Honesty prospers in every condition of life.

I speak with the Eternal through the instrument of nature, through the world's history: I read the soul of the artist in his Apollo.

The dictates of the heart are the voice of fate.

Whatever lives, lives to die in sorrow. We engage our hearts, and grasp after the things of this world, only to undergo the pang of losing them.

No greater grief than to remember days of gladness when sorrow is at hand.