Lose who may-I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they!

One may do whatever one likes. In art, the only thing is, to make sure that one does like it.

Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.

Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed As, God be thanked! I do not.

Time'swheelsrunsbackor stops: Potterand clayendure.

You should not take a fellow eight years old and make him swear to never kiss the girls.

All service ranks the same with God,- With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first.