Talent Is A Long Patience.

Each Dream Finds At Last Its Form; There Is A Drink For Every Thirst, And Love For Every Heart. And There Is No Better Way To Spend Your Life Than In The Unceasing Preoccupation Of An Idea--of An Ideal.

Criticism Occupies The Lowest Place In The Literary Hierarchy: As Regards Form, Almost Always; And As Regards Moral Value, Incontestably. It Comes After Rhyming Games And Acrostics, Which At Least Require A Certain Inventiveness.

One Must Always Hope When One Is Desperate, And Doubt When One Hopes.

Reality Does Not Conform To The Ideal, But Confirms It.

You Can't Find The Soul With A Scalpel.