The joy of a strong nature is as cloudless as its suffering is desolate.
It is the north wind that lashes men into Vikings; it is the soft, luscious south wind which lulls them to lotus dreams.
It is only to those who have never lived that death ever can seems beautiful.
Familiarity is a magician that is cruel to beauty but kind to ugliness.
Music is not a science any more than poetry is. It is a sublime instinct, like genius of all kinds.
for what is the gift of the poet and the artist except to see the sights which others cannot see and to hear the sounds that others cannot hear?