What sort of faults may we retain, nay, even cherish in ourselves? Those faults which are rather pleasant than offensive to others.

The connoisseur of art must be able to appreciate what is simply beautiful, but the common run of people is satisfied with ornament.

In comradeship is danger countered best.

Are we not also married to conscience which we would love to get rid of often enough since it is more bothersome than a man or a woman ever could become?

One glance, one word from you gives more pleasure than all the wisdom of this world.

Art is in itself noble; that is why the artist has no fear of what is common. This, indeed, is already ennobled when he takes it up.

People can only live with their equals, and not even with them; for in the long run they cannot tolerate that someone is their equal.