Art is the stored honey of the human soul, gathered on wings of misery and travail.

Assure a man that he has a soul and then frighten him with old wives' tales as to what is to become of him afterward, and you have hooked a fish, a mental slave

In order to have wisdom we must have ignorance

Words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean.  Little audible links, they are, chaining together great inaudible feelings and purposes.

Let no one underestimate the need of pity. We live in a stony universe whose hard, brilliant forces rage fiercely.

Words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean. Little audible links, they are, chaining together great inaudible feelings and purposes.