Art for art's sake is an empty phrase. Art for the sake of truth, art for the sake of the good and the beautiful, that is the faith I am searching for.

Fame and admiration weigh not a feather in the scale against friendship and love, for the heart languishes all the same.

Faith is an excitement and an enthusiasm: it is a condition of intellectual magnificence to which we must cling as to a treasure, and not squander on our way through life in the small coin of empty words, or in exact and priggish argument.

...Je n’ai pas cessé de l’être si c’est d’être jeune que d’aimer toujours !... L’humanité n’est pas un vain mot. Notre vie est faite d’amour, et ne plus aimer c’est ne plus vivre." (I have never ceased to be young, if being young is always loving... Humanity is not a vain word. Our life is made of love, and to love no longer is to live no longer.)

Life is a slate where all our sins are written; from time to time we rub the sponge of repentance over it so we can begin sinning again.

He who draws noble delights from sentiments of poetry is a true poet, though he has never written a line in all his life.

One approaches the journey's end. But the end is a goal, not a catastrophe.