I feel that I am a man of destiny.
Art is difficult, transient is her reward.
Deaf rage that hears no leader.
One can give advice comfortably from a safe port.
He that is over-cautious will accomplish but very little.
Song forbids victorious deeds to die.
Physical beauty is the sign of an interior beauty, a spiritual and moral beauty which is the basis, the principle, and the unity of the beautiful.
Strange customs do not thrive in foreign soil.
Man is made of the wholly common, and custom is his nurse; woe then to them who lay irreverent hands on his old house-furniture, the dear inheritance from his forefathers: For time consecrates, and what is gray with age becomes religion.
What else is chance but the rude stone which receives its life from the sculptor’s hand? Providence gives us chance, and man must mould it to his own designs.
Utility is the great idol of the age, to which all powers must do service and all talents swear allegiance. In this great balance of utility, the spiritual service of art has no weight, and, deprived of all encouragement, it vanishes from the noisy Vanity Fair of our time.
The zeal of friends it is that razes me, And not the hate of enemies.
The Moor has done his work, the Moor may go.
Honor women! they entwine and weave heavenly roses in our earthly life.
If yon wish to be like the gods on earth, to be free in the realms of the dead, pluck not the fruit from the garden! In appearance it may glisten to the eye; but the perishable pleasure of possession quickly avenges the curse of curiosity.
If thou art something bring thy soul and interchange with mine. – Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller.
The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and billows.
The worst of me is known, and I can say that I am better than the reputation I bear.
To be man’s tender mate was woman born, and in obeying nature she best serves the purposes of heaven.
Joy, in Nature’s wide dominion, Mightiest cause of all is found; And ’tis joy that moves the pinion When the wheel of time goes round.