Lose the day loitering, 'twill be the same story To-morrow, and the next more dilatory, For indecision brings its own delays, And days are lost lamenting o'er lost days. Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute! What you can do, or think you can, begin it! Only engage, and then the mind grows heated; Begin it, and the work will be completed.

To like things like, whatever one may ail; There is certain help.

The biggest problem with every art is by the use of appearance to create a loftier reality.

Our wishes are presentiments of the abilities that lie in us, harbingers of what we will be able to accomplish.

Error is acceptable as long as we are young; but one must not drag it along into old age.

The soul is indestructible and its activity will continue through eternity. It is like the sun, which, to our eyes, seems to set at night; but it has in reality only gone to diffuse its light elsewhere.

The artist may be well advised to keep his work to himself till it is completed, because no one can readily help him or advise him with it... but the scientist is wiser not to withhold a single finding or a single conjecture from publicity.