Reason and happiness are like other flowers; they wither when plucked.

Art is a delayed echo.

The man who would emancipate art from discipline and reason is trying to elude rationality, not merely in art, but in all existence.

Only the dead have seen the end of the war.

It is a revenge the devil sometimes takes upon the virtuous, that he entraps them by the force of the very passion they have suppressed and think themselves superior to.

To drink in the spirit of a place you should be not only alone but unhurried.

Emotion is primarily about nothing and much of it remains about nothing to the end.