The web of this world is woven of Necessity and Chance. Woe to him who has accustomed himself from his youth up to find something necessary in what is capricious, and who would ascribe something like reason to Chance and make a religion of surrendering to it.

Talent is nurtured in solitude; character is formed in the stormy billows of the world.

Since I have heard often enough that everyone in the end has his own religion, nothing seemed more natural to me than to fashion my own.

Our foibles are really what make us lovable.

If you modestly enjoy your fame you are not unworthy to rank with the holy.

Whatever is the object of a saint's hope is the subject of his prayer.

Objects in pictures should so be arranged as by their very position to tell their own story.