Beauty vanishes; virtue is lasting.

We are our own devils; we drive ourselves out of our Edens.

Distance... is like futurity. A dim vastness is spread before our souls; the perceptions of our mind are as obscure as those of our vision... But alas! when we have attained our object, when the distant 'there' becomes the present 'here,' all is changed; we are as poor and circumscribed as ever, and our souls still languish for unattainable happiness.

One of the most striking signs of the decay of art is the intermixing of different genres.

To accept good advice is but to increase one's own ability.

The real scholar learns how to evolve the unknown from the known, and draws near the master.

Be generous with kindly words, especially about those who are absent.