There is no easy path leading out of life, and few are the easy ones that lie within it.

A critic is never too severe when he only detects the faults of an author. But he is worse than too severe when, in consequence of this detection, be presumes to place himself on a level with genius.

The flame of anger, bright and brief, sharpens the barb of love.

If in argument we can make a man angry with us, we have drawn him from his vantage ground and overcome him.

I strove with none; for none was worth my strife.

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art: I warm'd both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.

There is nothing on earth divine except humanity.