We do not fear being called meticulous, inclining as we do to the view that only the exhaustive can be truly interesting.

He who loves the more is the inferior and must suffer.

Distance in a straight line has no mystery. The mystery is in the sphere.

Tolerance becomes a crime when applied to evil.

Stupid — well, there are so many kinds of stupidity, and cleverness is one of the worst.

It is most certainly a good thing that the world knows only the beautiful opus but not its origins, not the conditions of its creation; for if people knew the sources of the artist's inspiration, that knowledge would often confuse them, alarm them, and thereby destroy the effects of excellence. strange hours! strangely enervating labor! bizarrely fertile intercourse of the mind with a body!

Isn't it grand, isn't it good, that language has only one word for everything we associate with love - from utter sanctity to the most fleshly lust? The result is perfect clarity in ambiguity, for love cannot be disembodied even in its most sanctified forms, nor is it without sanctity even at its most fleshly. Love is always simply itself, both as a subtle affirmation of life and as the highest passion; love is our sympathy with organic life.