Love is the natural occupation of the man of leisure.
My soul travels on the smell of perfume like the souls of other men on music.
It is from the womb of art that criticism was born.
Those men get along best with women who can get along best without them.
We revel in the laxness of the path we take.
This life is a hospital where every patient is possessed with the desire to change beds; one man would like to suffer in front of the stove, and another believes that he would recover his health beside the window.