Obsessions of the Orient, of the desert, of its ardor and its emptiness, of the shadows of palm gardens, of the garments white and wide - obsessions where the senses go berserk, where nerves are exasperated, and which made me, at the onset of each night, believe sleep impossible.

The work of art is the exaggeration of an idea.

We no longer admit any other truth than that which is expedient; for there is no worse error than the truth that may weaken the arm that is fighting.

I have never produced anything good except by a long succession of slight efforts.

Though a revolution may call itself "national," it always marks the victory of a single party.

The public always prefers to be reassured. There are those whose job this is. There are only too many.

Understanding is the beginning of approving.