What is man, when you come to think upon him, but a minutely set, ingenious machine for turning with infinite artfulness, the red wine of Shiraz into urine?

Man and woman are two locked caskets, of which each contains the key to the other.

In the mind and nature of a man a secret is an ugly thing, like a hidden physical defect.

There is a particular hapiness in giving a man whom you like very much, good food that you have cooked yourself.

the true art of the gods is the comic. The comic is a condescension of the divine to the world of man; it is the sublime vision, which cannot be studied, but must ever be celestially granted. In the comic the gods see their own being reflected as in a mirror, and while the tragic poet is bound by strict laws, they will allow the comic artist a freedom as unlimited as their own.