Talent is like the marksman who hits a target which others cannot reach; genius is like the marksman who hits a target, as far as which others cannot even see.
Sometimes, indeed, there is such a discrepancy between the genius and his human qualities that one has to ask oneself whether a little less talent might not have been better.
One is not born, but becomes, a genius.
Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius.
Madness that is so nearly allied to genius can know no cure in this world.
Let us leave to the brain what belongs to it, and agree that the work of the men of genius is of the superhuman, the offspring of man.
It is not because the touch of genius has roused genius to production, but because the admiration of genius has made talent ambitious, that the harvest is still so abundant.
Ingenuity was apparently given man in order that he may supply himself in crisis with shapes and sounds with which to guard himself from truth.
Genius, all over the world, stands hand in hand, and one shock of recognition runs the whole circle round.
Genius will live and thrive without training, but it does not the less reward the watering-pot and pruning-knife.
Genius is what a man invents when he is looking for a way out.
Genius is a promontory jutting out into the infinite.
