“Toil of science swells the wealth of art.”

There are evil spirits who suddenly fix their abode in man’s unguarded breast, causing us to commit devilish deeds, and then, hurrying back to their native hell, leave behind the stings of remorse in the poisoned bosom.

Pain is short, and joy is eternal.

Art is the right hand of Nature. The latter has only given us being, the former has made us men.

What is life without the radiance of love?

Satisfy a few to please many is bad.

The voice of the majority is no proof of justice.

Accursed be he who plays with the devil.

I follow my heart, for I can trust it.

I know that we often tremble at an empty terror; yet the false fancy brings a real misery.

Great souls endure in silence.

He who neglects the present moment throws away all he has.

When you are not happy with your life, always think that someone is happy simply because you exist.

The game of life looks cheerful when one carries a treasure safe in his heart.

Death is a mighty mediator. There all the flames of rage are extinguished, hatred is appeased, and angelic pity, like a weeping sister, bends with gentle and close embrace over the funeral urn.

Many a smiling face hides a mourning heart; but grief alone teaches us what we are.

There is no solitude in nature.