After all, the true seeing is within.

Human feeling is like the mighty rivers that bless the earth: it does not wait for beauty — it flows with resistless force and brings beauty with it.

No story is the same to us after a lapse of time; or rather we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.

What is opportunity to the man who can't use it? An unfecundated egg, which the waves of time wash away into nonentity.

What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity.

The egoism which enters into our theories does not affect their sincerity; rather, the more our egoism is satisfied, the more robust is our belief.

We are all of us imaginative in some form or other, for images are the brood of desire.