The ordinary true, or purely real, cannot be the object of the arts. Illusion on a ground of truth,--that is the secret of the fine arts.
Taste is the literary conscience of the soul.
Haughty people seem to me to have, like the dwarfs, the stature of a child and the face of a man.
The essence of life consists in thinking, and being conscious of one's soul.
The idea of the nest in the bird's mind, where does it come from?
Slander is the solace of malignity.