Become corrupt, corrupt, and you will cease to suffer!" This has been the cry of all cities to man.

One must not trifle with love

Great artists have no country.

The soft contralto notes of a woman's voice are born in the immediate region of the heart.

Become corrupt, corrupt, and you will cease to suffer!" This has been the cry of all cities to man.

Alas, everything that men say to one another is alike; the ideas they exchange are almost always the same, in their conversation. But inside all those isolated machines, what hidden recesses, what secret compartments! It is an entire world that each one carries within him, an unknown world that is born and dies in silence! What solitudes all these human bodies are!

The fumes of wine fermented in my head; it was one of those moments of intoxication when all that ones sees and hears, speaks to one of the adored.... One would willingly embrace all who smile, and one feels that he is brother of all who live.