What else is nature but God?
Everything in art is but a copy of nature.
I am like a book, with pages that have stuck together for want of use: my mind needs unpacking and the truths stored within must be turned over from time to time, to be ready when occasion demands.
Some laws, though unwritten, are more firmly established than all written laws.
When I think over what I have said, I envy dumb people.
It is the constant fault and inseparable evil quality of ambition, that it never looks behind it.