Desire is the presentiment of our inner abilities, and the forerunner of our ultimate accomplishments.

Piety, like nobility, has its aristocracy.

Art rests on a kind of religious sense, on a deep, steadfast earnestness; and on this account it unites so readily with religion.

Few men have imagination enough for reality.

Shakespeare is dangerous to young poets; they cannot but reproduce him, while they fancy that they produce themselves.

Let's plunge ourselves into the roar of time, the whirl of accident; may pain and pleasure, success and failure, shift as they will -- it's only action that can make a man.

If you start to think of your physical and moral condition, you usually find that you are sick.