This life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed with a desire to change his bed.
To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
It is the hour to be drunken! To escape being the martyred slaves of time, be ceaselessly drunk. On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.
I can barely conceive of a type of beauty in which there is no Melancholy.
The world only goes round by misunderstanding.
To say the word Romanticism is to say modern art — that is, intimacy, spirituality, color, aspiration towards the infinite, expressed by every means available to the arts.
Beauty is the sole ambition, the exclusive goal of Taste.
It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree. For if, by ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree.
The dance can reveal everything mysterious that is hidden in music, and it has the additional merit of being human and palpable. Dancing is poetry with arms and legs.