One of Amiel's magical phrases is that in which he describes revery as the Sunday of the soul.

Toil over, care banished, the world forgotten, one communes with that which is eternal.

In the long course of centuries the forests are as short-lived as the flowers; all visible forms are but momentary expressions of the creative force.

In the work of the greatest mind all spoken and written thoughts are but partial and passing utterances of a life of whose volume and movement they afford only half-comprehended hints.

After a Shakespeare has written thirty immortal plays he must still feel that what was deepest in him is unuttered.