No, no! I do nature injustice. She gave us inventive faculty, and set us naked, and helpless on the shore of this great ocean,--the world; swim those who can, the heavy may go to the bottom.

Why should I deem myself to be a chisel, when I could be the artist?

Alas! When duty grows thy law, enjoyment fades away.

False fancy brings real misery.

One can give advice comfortably from a safe port.

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.

It is through beauty that we arrive at freedom.