It is the greatest art of the devil to convince us he does not exist.
Soon we will plunge ourselves into cold shadows, And all of summer's stunning afternoons will be gone. I already hear the dead thuds of logs below Falling on the cobblestones and the lawn.
There are as many kinds of beauty as there are habitual ways of seeking happiness.
I consider it useless and tedious to represent what exists, because nothing that exists satisfies me. Nature is ugly, and I prefer the monsters of my fancy to what is positively trivial.
Everything that is beautiful and noble is the product of reason and calculation.
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