There is nothing outside of us that is not at the same time in us, and as the external world has its colors the eye, too, has colors.

Each has his own happiness in his hands, as the artist handles the rude clay he seeks to reshape it into a figure; yet it is the same with this art as with all others: only the capacity for it is innate; the art itself must be learned and painstakingly practiced.

Sometimes I don't understand how another can love her, is allowed to love her, since I love her so completely myself, so intensely, so fully, grasp nothing, know nothing, have nothing but her!

Who is the happiest man? He who is alive to the merit of others, and can rejoice in their enjoyment as if it were his own.

Talents are nurtured best in solitude, But character on life's tempestuous seas!

It is delivery that makes the orators success.

A man would create another man if one did not already exist, but a woman might live an eternity without even thinking of reproducing her own sex.