The act of love is a confession.

There is nothing abstract about pain. It is specific, it is real, and, when it is intense, it is world destroying.

Ironic philosophies produce passionate works.

No matter what cause one defends, it will suffer permanent disgrace if one resorts to blind attacks on crowds of innocent people.

Generally, I like all islands. There, it is easier to rule.

To understand one's world, one must sometimes turn away from it! To serve better, one must briefly hold it at a distance. Where can the necessary solitude be found, the long breathing space in which mind gathers its strength and takes stock of its courage.

Without freedom, no art; art lives only on the restraints it imposes on itself, and dies of all others.