The artist has a twofold relation to nature; he is at once her master and her slave.

Each has his own happiness in his hands, as the artist handles the rude clay he seeks to reshape it into a figure; yet it is the same with this art as with all others: only the capacity for it is innate; the art itself must be learned and painstakingly practiced.

Every great idea exerts, on first appearing, a tyrannical influence: Hence, the advantages it brings are turned all too soon into disadvantages.

Money lost, something lost. Honor lost, much lost. Courage lost, everything lost-better you were never born

In art it's not the thinking that does the job, but making.

Science and art belong to the whole world, and before them vanish the barriers of nationality.

I bid the chords sweet music make, And all must follow in my wake.