“Art is the only serious thing in the world. And the artist is the only person who is never serious.”

If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.

Some things are more precious because they don’t last long.

I may not agree with you, but I will defend to the death your right to make an ass of yourself.

Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live.

The truth is rarely pure and never simple.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Indeed I have always been of the opinion that hard work is simply the refuge of people who have nothing to do.

I think God, in creating man, somewhat overestimated his ability.

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.

Society often forgives the criminal; it never forgives the dreamer.

Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast.

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.

Crying is for plain women. Pretty women go shopping.

An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all.

The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.

The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.

Loneliness is an art shaped by self-love.

Her veins are filled with the ink that writes onto the paper of her life and canvas.

I imagine poetry to be a living entity in me.

Friendships that die are like a lost art.

I cannot tell if it is a blessing from an old god or lovely dark art only that he holds my heart.

The art of harvesting pain – poetry.

The glass is broken into particles that now accept themselves as art.

Art has a special way of connecting dots from lost to found.