If the stars should appear but one night every thousand years how man would marvel and adore.

The imitator dooms himself to hopeless mediocrity. The inventor did it, because it was natural to him, and so in him it has a charm. In the imitator, something else is natural, and he bereaves himself of his own beauty, to come short of another man's.

A sect or party is an elegant incognito devised to save a man from the vexation of thinking.

Death comes to all, but great achievements build a monument which shall endure until the sun grows cold.

Things are pretty, graceful, rich, elegant, handsome, but, until they speak to the imagination, not yet beautiful.

Trust men and they will be true to you treat them greatly and they will show themselves great.