He who is in love is wise and is becoming wiser.
In our fine arts, not imitation, but creation is the aim... The details, the prose of nature, he should omit, and give us only the spirit and splendour.
There is a capacity of virtue in us, and there is a capacity of vice to make your blood creep.
Every reform was once a private opinion.
Nature encourages no looseness; pardons no errors.
The intellect is vagabond, and our system of education fosters restlessness. Our minds travel when our bodies are forced to stay at home. We imitate; and what is imitation but the travelling of the mind?