“It’s a delicious thing to write. To be no longer yourself but to move in an entire universe of your own creating.”

I have dreamed much and have done very little.

She wanted to die, but she also wanted to live in Paris.

The heart, like the stomach, wants a varied diet.

You must write for yourself, above all. That is your only hope of creating something beautiful.

To be simple is no small matter.

The public wants work which flatters its illusions.

Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.

One’s duty is to feel what is great, cherish the beautiful, and to not accept the conventions of society with the ignominy that it imposes upon us.

My foregrounds are imaginary, my backgrounds real.

There are three thing in the world I love most: the sea, Hamlet, and Don Giovanni.

Earth has its boundaries, but human stupidity is limitless.

Anything becomes interesting if you look at it long enough.

The whole dream of democracy is to raise the proletarian to the level of stupidity attained by the bourgeois.

On certain occasions art can shake very ordinary spirits, and whole worlds can be revealed by its clumsiest interpreters.

One never tires of what is well written, style is life! It is the very blood of thought!

There is no truth. There is only perception.