Doubt follows white-winged hope with trembling steps.

Music is of two kinds: one petty, poor, second-rate, never varying, its base the hundred or so phrasings which all musicians understand, a babbling which is more or less pleasant, the life that most composers live.

Rich men are resolved to be astonished at nothing. When they see a masterpiece, they must needs at one glance recognize some flaw to dispense them from admiration, a vulgar emotion.

Our heart is a treasury; if you pour out all its wealth at once, you are bankrupt.

Nothing is irredeemably ugly but sin.

Handsome widows, after a twelve-month, enjoy a latitude and longitude without limit.

Men die in despair, while spirits die in ecstasy.