Life is a flower of which love is honey.

Logic ignores the almost, just as the sun ignores the candle.

The day that a woman who is passing before you sheds a light upon you as she goes, you are lost, you love. You have then but one thing to do: to think of her so earnestly that she will be compelled to think of you.

Art needs no spur beyond itself.

Genuflection before the idol or the dollar destroys the muscles which walk and the will that moves.

Be like the bird who, pausing in her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing she hath wings.

It is a terrible thing to be happy! How pleased we are with it! How all-sufficient we think it! How, being in possession of the false aim of life, happiness, we forget the true aim, duty!