I am sick of women who love one. Women who hate one are much more interesting.

Beauty is a form of Genius--is higher, indeed, than Genius, as it needs no explanation. It is one of the great facts of the world, like sunlight, or springtime, or the reflection in the dark waters of that silver shell we call the moon. It cannot be questioned. It has divine right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it.

It seems to me that we all look at Nature too much, and live with her too little.

Art, like Nature, has her monsters

To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.

Conformity is the last refuge of the unimaginitive

Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.