Flowers... are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world.

I take this evanescence and lubricity of all objects, which lets them slip through our fingers then when we clutch hardest, to be the most unhandsome part of our condition.

Liberty is a slow fruit.

When all shoot at one mark, the gods join in the combat.

The desire of gold is not for gold. It is not the love of much wheat, and wool and household stuff. It is the means of freedom and benefit.

There are as many pillows of illusion as flakes in a snow-storm. We wake from one dream into another dream.

All high beauty has a moral element in it.