There are three classes of readers; some enjoy without judgment; others judge without enjoyment; and some there are who judge while they enjoy, and enjoy while they judge. The latter class reproduces the work of art on which it is engaged. Its numbers are very small.

Time is a strange thing. It is a whimsical tyrant, which in every century has a different face for all that one says and does.

One of the most striking signs of the decay of art is the intermixing of different genres.

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

We all walk in mysteries. We are surrounded by an atmosphere about which we still know nothing at all.

Man errs as long as he strives.

Character - in things great and small - is indicated when a man (or person) pursues with sustained follow-through what he feels himself capable of doing.