Excess always carries it's own retributions.

Hypocrites weep, and you cannot tell their tears from those of saints; but no bad man ever laughed sweetly yet.

Coleridge cried; "O God, how glorious it is to live!" Renan asks, "O God, when will it be worth while to live?" In Nature we echo the poet; in the world we echo the thinker.

The loss of our illusions is the only loss from which we never recover.

Music is not a science any more than poetry is. It is a sublime instinct, like genius of all kinds.

Men are always optimists when they look inwards, and pessimists when they look round them.

There is a chord in every heart that has a sigh in it if touched aright.