Art is indeed not the bread but the wine of life.
The end we aim at must be known, before the way can be made.
Sorrows gather around great souls as storms do around mountains; but, like them, they break the storm and purify the air of the plain beneath them.
Fancy rules over two thirds of the universe, the past, and future, while reality is confined to the present
Nothing is more beautiful than cheerfulness in an old face.
Like a morning dream, life becomes more and more bright the longer we live, and the reason of everything appears more clear. What has puzzled us before seems less mysterious, and the crooked paths look straighter as we approach the end.