A man must ride alternately on the horses of his private and his public nature.

We know that madness belongs to love,--what power to paint a vile object in hues of heaven.

We aim above the mark, to hit the mark. Every act hath some falsehood of exaggeration in it.

A mind might ponder its thought for an epoch, and not gain so much self-knowledge as the passion of love shall teach in a day.

Wisdom is not found with those who dwell at their ease; rather nature, when she adds brain, adds difficulty.

We all wish to be of importance in one way or another. The child coughs with might and main, since it has no other claim on the company.

Painting seems to be to the eye what dancing is to the limbs. When that has educated the frame to self-possession, to nimbleness,to grace, the steps of the dancing-master are better forgotten; so painting teaches me the splendor of color and the expression of form, and as I see many pictures and higher genius in the art, I see the boundless opulence of the pencil, the indifferency in which the artist stands free to choose out of the possible forms.