Fly and you will catch the swallow.
Fancy rules over two thirds of the universe, the past, and future, while reality is confined to the present
Music is moonlight in the gloomy night of life.
God is an unutterable sigh, planted in the depths of the soul.
The guardian angels of life sometimes fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.
Strong characters are brought out by change of situation, and gentle ones by permanence.
Recollection is the only paradise from which we cannot be turned out.
Art arises in those strange complexities of action that are called human beings. It is a kind of human behavior. As such it is not magic, except as human beings are magical. Nor is it concerned in absolutes, eternities, "forms," beyond those that may reside in the context of the human being and be subject to his vicissitudes. Art is not an inner state of consciousness, whatever that may mean. Neither is it essentially a supreme form of communication. Art is human behavior, and its values are contained in human behavior.
The further the music develops, the more complex the apparatus used by the composer to express his thoughts becomes.
I know my parents are really proud of me, and they think I've become successful, so that's nice, but there's still so much I want to achieve in my life.
Simplest of blossoms! To mine eye Thou bring'st the summer's painted sky; The May-thorn greening in the nook; The minnows sporting in the brook; The bleat of flocks; the breath of flowers; The song of birds amid the bowers; The crystal of the azure seas; The music of the southern breeze; And, over all, the blessed sun, Telling of halcyon days begun.