Aristocracy has three successive ages—of superiorities, of privileges, and of vanities; having passed out of the first, it degenerates in the second, and dies away in the third.
Perfect works are rare, because they must be produced at the happy moment when taste and genius unite: and this rare conjunction, like that of certain planets, appears to occur only after the revolution of several cycles, and only lasts for an instant.
Sans le goût, le génie n’est qu’une sublime folie. Ce toucher sûr par qui la lyre ne rend que le son qu’elle doit rendre, est encore plus rare que la faculté qui crée—Without taste genius is only a sublime kind of folly. That sure touch by which the lyre gives back the right note and nothing more, is even a rarer gift than the creative faculty itself.
Soyons doux, si nous voulons être regrettés. La hauteur du génie et les qualités supérieures ne sont pleurées que des anges—Let us be gentle if we would be regretted. The pride of genius and high talents are lamented only by angels.
