There is no solitude in nature.
Secrecy is for the happy,--misery, hopeless misery, needs no veil; under a thousand suns it dares act openly.
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.
All things must; man is the only creature that wills.
The happy man does not notice the flight of time.
It is difficult to discriminate the voice of truth from amid the clamor raised by heated partisans.