Our passions are the true phoenixes; when the old one is burnt out, a new one rises from its ashes.

Art is in itself noble; that is why the artist has no fear of what is common. This, indeed, is already ennobled when he takes it up.

To a valet no man is a hero.

Only he who finds empiricism irksome is driven to method.

To be loved for what one is, that is the greatest exception. The great majority love in others only what they lend him; their own selves, their version of him.

As long as you don't practice it, this dying and becoming, You are only a dreary guest on this dark earth.

The child, offered the mother's breast, Will not in the beginning grab it; But soon it clings to it with zest. And thus at wisdom's copious breasts You'll drink each day with greater zest.