There comes an hour when protest no longer suffices; after philosophy there must be action; the strong hand finishes what the idea has sketched.

The ode lives upon the ideal, the epic upon the grandiose, the drama upon the real.

To think is of itself to be useful; it is always and in all cases a striving toward God.

When grace combines with wrinkles, it is admirable. There is an indescribable light of dawn about intensely happy old age. . . . The young person is handsome, but the old, superb.

These are true felicities. No joy beyond these joys. Love is the only ecstasy, everything else weeps

The learned man knows that he is ignorant.

If you wish to understand what Revolution is, call it Progress; and if you wish to understand what Progress is, call it Tomorrow.