The dreams of men, the seed of commonwealth, the germs of empires.

The ocean has the conscienceless temper of a savage autocrat spoiled by much adulation

Droll thing life is -- that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself -- that comes too late -- a crop of inextinguishable regrets.

The artist in his calling of interpreter creates because he must. He is so much of a voice that, for him, silence is like death

The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much.

I am a great foe of favoritism in public life, in private life, and even in the delicate relationship of an author to his works.

That faculty of beholding at a hint the face of his desire and the shape of his dream, without which the earth would know no lover and no adventurer.