“Art is the objectification of feeling.”

Truth uncompromisingly told will always have its ragged edges.

Of all the preposterous assumptions of humanity over humanity, nothing exceeds most of the criticisms made on the habits of the poor by the well-housed, well- warmed, and well-fed.

I am a man who, from his youth upwards, has been filled with a profound conviction that the easiest way of life is the best.

You know nothing till you know all; which is the reason we never know any thing.

Nature is nobody’s ally.

To know how to grow old is the master work of wisdom, and one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living.

There is a savor of life and immortality in substantial fare. Like balloons, we are nothing till filled.

I am, as I am; whether hideous, or handsome, depends upon who is made judge.

Let us speak, though we show all our faults and weaknesses, – for it is a sign of strength to be weak, to know it, and out with it – not in a set way and ostentatiously, though, but incidentally and without premeditation.

A smile is the chosen vehicle of all ambiguities.

I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.

Tis no dishonor when he who would dishonor you, only dishonors himself.

Man is a money-making animal, which propensity too often interferes with his benevolence.

A man of true science… thinks, that by mouthing hard words, he proves that he understands hard things.

Thou hast evoked in me profounder spells than the evoking one, thou face! For me, thou hast uncovered one infinite, dumb, beseeching countenance of mystery, underlying all the surfaces of visible time and space.

Do not presume, well-housed, well-warmed, and well-fed, to criticize the poor

Somedays depression is tender, as though hurting is just an art; and that maybe she didn’t break me more than enough!

The art of drawing conclusions from experiments and observations consists in evaluating probabilities and in estimating whether they are sufficiently great or numerous enough to constitute proofs. This kind of calculation is more complicated and more difficult than it is commonly thought to be.

I describe not men, but manners; not an individual, but a species.

Each person’s work is always a portrait of himself.

I stand with Charlie Hebdo, as we all must, to defend the art of satire.

We took away your art because we thought it would reveal your souls. Or to put it more finely, we did it to prove you had souls at all.

Charm is the great English blight. It does not exist outside these damp islands. It spots and kills anything it touches. It kills love; it kills art; I greatly fear, my dear Charles, it has killed you.

Sunlight is painting.