Revolution, in order to be creative, cannot do without either a moral or metaphysical rule to balance the insanity of history.

Man is always prey to his truths. Once he has admitted them, he cannot free himself from them.

Thus I progressed on the surface of life, in the realm of words as it were, never in reality. All those books barely read, those friends barely loved, those cities barely visited, those women barely possessed! I went through the gestures out of boredom or absent-mindedness. Then came human beings; they wanted to cling, but there was nothing to cling to, and that was unfortunate--for them. As for me, I forgot. I never remembered anything but myself.

Only he who is uncompromising as to his rights maintains the sense of duty.

You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself.

The artist forges himself to the others, midway between the beauty he cannot do without and the community he cannot tear himself away from. That is why true artists scorn nothing: they are obliged to understand rather than to judge.

Those who prefer their principles over their happiness, they refuse to be happy outside the conditions they seem to have attached to their happiness.