Strange secrets are let out by Death Who blabs so oft the follies of this world.
Joys divided are increased.
God gives every bird its food, but He does not throw it into its nest.
Character lives in a man, reputation outside of him.
A young man rarely gets a better vision of himself than that which is reflected from a true woman's eyes; for God himself sits behind them.
The most precious possession that ever comes to a man in this world is a woman's heart.
If there be one attribute of the Deity which astonishes me more than another, it is the attribute of patience. The Great Soul that sits on the throne of the universe is not, never was, and never will be, in a hurry. In the realm of nature, every thing has been wrought out in the august consciousness of infinite leisure; and I bless God for that geology which gives me a key to the patience in which the creative process was effected.
To come to know that nothing is good, nothing is bad, is a turning point; it is a conversion. You start looking in; the outside reality loses meaning. The social reality is a fiction, a beautiful drama; you can participate in it, but then you don’t take it seriously. It is just a role to be played; play it as beautifully, as efficiently, as possible. But don’t take it seriously, it has nothing of the ultimate in it.
Hardly anybody recognizes the most significant moments of their life at the time they happen.
This kind of painting with its large frames is a bourgeois drawing-room art. It is an art dealer's art-and that came in after the civil wars following the French Revolution.
But her's was the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fair moon, for a while hides, but cannot tarnish its brightness.