Music was a thing of the soul — a rose-lipped shell that murmured of the eternal sea — a strange bird singing the songs of another shore.

Ah! soul of mine! Ah! soul of mine! Thy sluggish senses are but bars That stand between thee and the stars, And shut thee from the world divine.

Perfect love holds the secret of the world's perfect liberty.

God be thanked that there are some in the world to whose hearts the barnacles will not cling.

Joys divided are increased.

Blessed is that man who knows his own distaff and has found his own spindle.

Nature is the master of talents; genius is the master of nature.