We live ruins amid ruins.

The health of the eye seems to demand a horizon. We are never tired, so long as we can see far enough.

Solitude, the safeguard of mediocrity, is to genius the stern friend

It is very unhappy, but too late to be helped, the discovery we have made, that we exist

Perpetual modernness is the measure of merit, in every work of art; since the author of it was not misled by anything short- livedor local, but abode by real and abiding traits.

If you would not be known to do anything, never do it.

Welcome evermore to gods and men is the self-helping man.