So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.

It is impossible, to me at least, to be poetical in cold weather.

You know nothing about Hope, that immortal, delicious maiden forever courted forever propitious, whom fools have called deceitful, as if it were Hope that carried the cup of disappointment, whereas it is her deadly enemy, Certainty, whom she only es

If a man goes a little too far along a new road, it is usually himself that he harms more than any one else.

Well, well, my boy, if good luck knocks at your door, don't you put your head out at window and tell it to be gone about its business, that's all.

In Rome it seems as if there were so many things which are more wanted in the world than pictures.

I couldn't live in peace if I put the shadow of a willful sin between myself and God.