The tea is ice-cold, the room grows colder and colder, but I grow warmer and warmer.

Why hurry over beautiful things? Why not linger and enjoy them?

I do not want horses or diamonds - I am happy in possessing you.

Is an artist much more than a beggar?

My health may be better preserved if I exert myself less, but in the end doesn't each person give his life for his calling?

My imagination can picture no fairer happiness than to continue living for art.