Nothing leads to good that is not natural.
We, we live! ours are the hours, and the living have their claims.
It does not prove a thing to be right because the majority say it is so.
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.
The May of life blooms once and never again.
Art is the right hand of Nature.