There is nothing that you may not get people to believe in if you will only tell it them loud enough and often enough, till the welkin rings with it.

The heart of silver falls ever into the hands of brass. The sensitive herb is eaten as grass by the swine.

Why is youth so short and age so long?

The joy of a strong nature is as cloudless as its suffering is desolate.

It is quite easy for stupid people to be happy; they believe in fables, and they trot on in a beaten track like a horse on a tramway.

There is no more terrible woe upon earth than the woe of the stricken brain, which remembers the days of its strength, the living light of its reason, the sunrise of its proud intelligence, and knows that these have passed away like a tale that is told.

Belief of some sort is the lifeblood of Art.