Work is the law of life, and to reject it as boredom is to submit to it as torment.
The straight line, a respectable optical illusion which ruins many a man.
The wise man is he who knows when and how to stop
It was SHE. Whoever has loved knows all the radiant meaning contained in the three letters of this word ‘she.
My tastes are aristocratic, my actions democratic.
The earlier works of a man of genius are always preferred to the newer ones, in order to prove that he is going down instead of up.
There comes an hour when protest no longer suffices; after philosophy there must be action; the strong hand finishes what the idea has sketched.
Where the telescope ends the microscope begins, and which has the wider vision?
The true artist can only labor con amore.
Earnestness is the salt of eloquence.
He loved books; books are cold but safe friends.
In Shakespeare the birds sing, the bushes are clothed with green, hearts love, souls suffer, the cloud wanders, it is hot, it is cold, night falls, time passes, forests and multitudes speak, the vast eternal dream hovers over all. Sap and blood, all forms of the multiple reality, actions and ideas, man and humanity, the living and the life, solitudes, cities, religions, diamonds and pearls, dung-hills and charnelhouses, the ebb and flow of beings, the steps of comers and goers, all, all are on Shakespeare and in Shakespeare.
It is ourselves we have to fear. Prejudice is the real robber, and vice the real murderer.
No man is more unhappy than the one who is never in adversity; the greatest affliction of life is never to be afflicted.
Let us fear the worst, but work with faith; the best will always take care of itself.
A writer is a world trapped in a person.
The man who does not know other languages, unless he is a man of genius, necessarily has deficiencies in his ideas.
The memory of an absent person shines in the deepest recesses of the heart, shining the more brightly the more wholly its object has vanished: a light on the horizon of the despairing, darkened spirit; a star gleaming in our inward night.
One only needs to see a smile in a white crape bonnet in order to enter the palace of dreams.
At a certain depth of distress, the poor, in their stupor, groan no longer over evil, and are no longer thankful for good.
Enthusiasm is the fever of reason.
Wherever the Turkish hoof trods, no grass grows.
Indigestion is charged by God with enforcing morality on the stomach.
For dogs we kings should have lions, and for cats, tigers. The great benefits a crown.
Nature is pitiless; she never withdraws her flowers, her music, her fragrance, and her sunlight from before human cruelty or suffering.
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