Every artist was first an amateur.

The primary wisdom is intuition. In that deep force, the last fact behind which analysis cannot go, all things find their origin.

For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind.

Every man is grave alone.

Talent finds its models, methods, and ends in society, exists for exhibition, and goes to the soul only for power to work. Genius is its own end, and draws its means and the style of its architecture from within.

Life is comic or pitiful as soon as the high ends of being fade out of sight, and man becomes near-sighted, and can only attend towhat addresses the senses.

Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis.