The people fancy they hate poetry, and they are all poets and mystics.

If you are wise, you will dread a prosperity which only loads you with more.

An artist spends himself like the crayon in his hand, till he is all gone.

The vulgar call good fortune that which really is produced by the calculations of genius.

Why should I hasten to solve every riddle which life offers me? I am well assured that the Questioner, who brings me so many problems, will bring me the answers also, in due time.

We are all inventors, each sailing out on a voyage of discovery, guided each by a private chart, of which there is no duplicate. The world is all gates, all opportunities.

Moller, in his Essay on Architecture, taught that the building which was fitted accurately to answer its end would turn out to be beautiful, though beauty had not been intended. I find the like unity in human structures rather virulent and pervasive.