When a man has no enemy left there must be something mean about him. - Oscar Wilde

Art only begins where Imitation ends.

But we never get back our youth… The pulse of joy that beats in us at twenty becomes sluggish. Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to.

Science can never grapple with the irrational. That is why it has no future before it, in this world.