It is unhappily true that much insincere Literature and Art, executed solely with a view to effect, does succeed by deceiving the public.

Imagination is not the exclusive appanage of artists, but belongs in varying degrees to all men.

The only cure for grief is action.

Books minister to our knowledge, to our guidance, and to our delight, by their truth, their uprightness, and their art.

Many a genius has been slow of growth. Oaks that flourish for a thousand years do not spring up into beauty like a reed.

Language, after all, is only the use of symbols, and Art also can only affect us through symbols.

Books have become our dearest companions, yielding exquisite delights and inspiring lofty aims.