Deny yourself! You must deny yourself! That is the song that never ends.
The confidant of my vices is my master, though he were my valet.
One errs as long as one strives.
Few men have imagination enough for reality.
Neither a work of nature nor one of art we get to know when they have been finished; we must surprise them in the process of beingcreated so as to understand them to some degree.
We are pantheists as natural scientists, polytheists as poets, and monotheists as moral beings.