No doubt the artist is the child of his time; but woe to him if he is also its disciple, or even its favorite.

There is room in the smallest cottage for a happy loving pair.

The voice of our age seems by no means favorable to art, at all events to that kind of art to which my inquiry is directed. The course of events has given a direction to the genius of the time that threatens to remove it continually further from the ideal of art. For art has to leave reality, it has to raise itself bodily above necessity and neediness; for art is the daughter of freedom, and it requires its prescriptions and rules to be furnished by the necessity of spirits and not by that of matter.

He that is over-cautious will accomplish but very little.

The future comes slowly, the present flies and the past stands still forever.

The reason for you complaint lies, it seems to me, in the constraint which your intellect imposes upon your imagination. Here I will make an observation, and illustrate it by an allegory. Apparently, it is not good-and indeed it hinders the creative work of the mind-if the if the intellect examines too closely the ideas pouring in, as it were, at the gates.

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