It is curious how there seems to be an instinctive disgust in Man for his nearest ancestors and relations. If only Darwin could conscientiously have traced man back to the Elephant or the Lion or the Antelope, how much ridicule and prejudice would have been spared to the doctrine of Evolution.
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Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is no mere translation or abstraction from life, it is life itself.
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The sun, the moon and the stars would have disappeared long ago... had they happened to be within the reach of predatory human hands.
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The place where optimism flourishes the most is the lunatic asylum.
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Jealousy - that dragon which slays love under the pretense of keeping it alive.
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The place where optimism most flourishes is the lunatic asylum.
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Dreams are real while they last. Can we say more of life
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The sun, the moon and the stars would have disappeared long ago had they happened to be within the reach of predatory human hands.
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The more rapidly a civilization progresses, the sooner it dies for another to rise in its place.
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Every man of genius sees the world at a different angle from his fellows, and there is his tragedy.
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Jealousy: that Dragon which slays love under the pretence of keeping it alive.
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Thinking in its lower grades, is comparable to paper money, and in its higher forms it is a kind of poetry.
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A man must not swallow more beliefs than he can digest.
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The absence of flaw in beauty is itself a flaw.
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What we call 'morals' is simply blind obedience to words of command.
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The Promised Land always lies on the other side of a Wilderness.
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Imagination is a poor substitute for experience.
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Men who know themselves are no longer fools. They stand on the threshold of the door of Wisdom.
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What we call 'Progress' is the exchange of one nuisance for another nuisance.
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It is only the great men who are truly obscene. If they had not dared to be obscene, they could never have dared to be great.
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The art of living lies in a fine mingling of holding on and letting go.
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To be a leader of men one must turn one's back on men.
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What we call progress is the exchange of one nuisance for another nuisance.
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I always seem to have a vague feeling that he is a Satan among musicians, a fallen angel in the darkness who is perpetually seeking to fight his way back to happiness.
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The conflict of forces and the struggle of opposing wills are of the essence of our universe and alone hold it together.
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There is nothing that war has ever achieved we could not better achieve without it.
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What we call 'morals' is simply blind obedience to words of command.
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