It is with art as with love: How can a man of the world,with all his distractions, keep the inwardness which an artist must possess if he hopes to attain perfection? That inwardness which the spectator must share if he is to understand the work as the artist wishes and hopes... Believe me, talents are like virtues; either you must love them for their own sake or renounce them altogether. And they are only recognized and rewarded when we have practised them in secret, like a dangerous mystery."

The sea is flowing ever, The land retains it never.

Humans fear reason, but they ought to fear stupidity- for reason can be hard, but stupidity can be fatal.

And I like those authors best whose scenes describe my own situation in life-- and the friends who are about me whose stories touch me with interest, from resembling my own homely existence.

It seems to never occur to fools that merit and good fortune are closely united.

Never let a day pass without looking at some perfect work of art, hearing some great piece of music and reading, in part, some great book.

Sin writes histories, goodness is silent.