So much the worse for the wood if it finds that it has become a violin, and I feel nothing but contempt for those ignoramuses who argue over things that they know nothing about.
True alchemy lies in this formula: ‘Your memory and your senses are but the nourishment of your creative impulse’.
Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
I saw that all beings are fated to happiness: action is not life, but a way of wasting some force, an enervation. Morality is the weakness of the brain.
Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
