There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, either after one of those dreamless nights that make one almost enamoured of death, or one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, when through the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks in all grotesques, and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality, this art being, one might fancy, especially the art of those whose minds have been troubled with the malady of reverie.

What is mind but motion in the intellectual sphere?

Circumstances should never alter principles!

The birds that were singing in the dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her.

I gave my genius to my life, but my talent to my art.

Whenever one has anything unpleasant to say, one should always be quite candid.

The essence of thought, as the essence of life, is growth.