It would be a lowly art that allowed itself to be understood all at once.

All that is noble is in itself of a quiet nature, and appears to sleep until it is aroused and summoned forth by contrast.

Neither art thou the man to catch the fiend and hold him! [Ger., Du bist noch nicht der Mann den Teufel festzuhalten.

Our foibles are really what make us lovable.

The older we grow, the greater become the ordeals.

Let's plunge ourselves into the roar of time, the whirl of accident; may pain and pleasure, success and failure, shift as they will -- it's only action that can make a man.

The finished man, you know, is difficult to please; a growing mind will ever show you gratitude. --Faust 1, lines 182-3