Nothing is so dangerous as being too modern; one is apt to grow old fashioned quite suddenly.

Consistency is the hallmark of the unimaginative.

It is well for his peace that the saint goes to his martyrdom. He is spared the sight of the horror of his harvest.

Music is the perfect type of art.

The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.

I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. I am jealous of the portrait you have painted of me. Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes takes something from me and gives something to it. Oh, if it were only the other way! If the picture could change, and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint it? It will mock me some day—mock me horribly!

Questions are never indiscreet, answers sometimes are.