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

And once, or twice, to throw the dice is a gentlemanly game, But he does not win who plays with Sin in the secret house of shame

If we're always guided by other people's thoughts, what's the point in having our own?

I treated Art as the supreme reality and life as a mere mode of fiction.

There is always something infinitely mean about other people's tragedies.

Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.

It is only the intellectually lost who ever argue.