Religions are the great fairy tales of conscience.

Tolerated people are never conciliated. They live on, but the aroma of their life is lost.

You and I possess manifold ideal bonds in the interests we share; but each of us has his poor body and his irremediable, incommunicable dreams.

The fly that prefers sweetness to a long life may drown in honey.

What better comfort have we, or what other Profit in living Than to feed, sobered by the truth of Nature, Awhile upon her beauty, And hand her torch of gladness to the ages Following after?

Art is a delayed echo.

There is no dunce like a mature dunce.