“I-I am going to be a storm-a flame- I need to fight whole armies alone; I have ten hearts; I have a hundred arms; I feel too strong to war with mortals- BRING ME GIANTS!”

A large nose is in fact the sign of an affable man, good, courteous, witty, liberal, courageous, such as I am.

It is at night that faith in light is admirable.

My heart always timidly hides itself behind my mind. I set out to bring down stars from the sky, then, for fear of ridicule, I stop and pick little flowers of eloquence.

To joke in the face of danger is the supreme politeness, a delicate refusal to cast oneself as a tragic hero.

To offend is my pleasure; I love to be hated.

It is at night that faith in light is admirable.

A kiss is a rosy dot placed on the “i” in loving.

Your neck. I want to kiss it.

A great nose may be an index Of a great soul.

Stay awhile! ‘Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Our selves unseen, unseeing!

A large nose is in fact the sign of an affable man, good, courteous, witty, liberal, courageous, such as I am.

A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.

A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.

I am what I am because early in life I decided that I would please at least myself in all things.

And if kisses in these words could travel too, Madam, you’d read this letter with your lips.

Stay awhile! ‘Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Our selves unseen, unseeing!

A timid mind is apt to mistake every scratch for a mortal wound.

[On dishonest business methods:] … frequently the defender of the practice falls back on the Christian doctrine of charity, and points out that we are erring mortals and must allow for each other’s weaknesses!.

I came then to a conviction that has never left me: that there is too much for me to attend to in this mortal life without overspeculation on the immortal, that it is not necessary to my peace of mind or to my effort to be a decent and useful person, to have a definite assurance about the affairs of the next world.

But coming to human birth and lured by the courtships of this sphere, she takes up with another love, a mortal, leaves her father and falls.

Since man is mortal, the only immortality possible for him is to leave something behind him that is immortal since it will always move. This is the artist’s way of scribbling “Kilroy was here” on the wall of the final and irrevocable oblivion through which he must someday pass.

You yourself don’t have to be shaken by mortal danger in order to feel your mortality.

I said to him, “State your business, mortal!” There was no need for me to call him “mortal” or to speak like a sixteenth-century knight. It just sounded cool.

All he knew was chaos and this mortal world was obsessed with order