Man is a hating rather than a loving animal.

It is always one's virtues and not one's vices that precipitate one into disaster.

Great music is in a sense serene; it is certain of the values it asserts.

Yes,” said Mamma, “this is the worst of life, that love does not give us common sense but is a sure way of losing it. We love people, and we say that we are going to do more for them than friendship, but it makes such fools of us that we do far less, indeed sometimes what we do could be mistaken for the work of hatred.

... it matters not what natural endowment a race may have if it prostitutes itself to the service of death.

It is the soul's duty to be loyal to its own desires. It must abandon itself to its master passion.

Nobody ever wrote a good book simply by collecting a number of accurate facts and valid ideas.