Whatever liberates our spirit, without also giving us mastery over ourselves, is destructive.

The mediator of the inexpressible is the work of art.

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

No limit, no definition, may restrict the range or depth of the human spirit's passage into its own secrets or the world's.

Man errs as long as he strives.

The true poet is called to take in the splendor of the world and for that reason will always be inclined to praise rather than tofind fault.

Common sense is the genius of humanity.