There is a certain standard of grace and beauty which consists in a certain relation between our nature... and the thing which pleases us.

Imagination disposes of everything; it creates beauty, justice, and happiness, which are everything in this world.

How vain is painting, which is admired for reproducing the likeness of things whose originals are not admired.

The weather and my mood have little connection. I have my foggy and my fine days within me; my prosperity or misfortune has little to do with the matter.

Therefore, those to whom God has imparted religion by intuition are very fortunate and justly convinced. But to those who do not have it, we can give it only by reasoning, waiting for God to give them spiritual insight, without which faith is only hu

The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me.