Man knows that the world is not made on a human scale; and he wishes that it were.

What is man? A miserable little pile of secrets

The total sacrifice to a cause beyond his comprehension restored a richness to man

Genius is not perfected, it is deepened. It does not so much interpret the world as fertilize itself with it.

Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.

Art is a revolt against fate. All art is a revolt against man's fate.