The scholar seeks truth, the artist finds.

The most beaten paths are certainly the surest, but do not hope to start much game on them.

Old hands soil, it seems, whatever they caress, but they too have their beauty when they are joined in prayer. Young hands were made for caresses and the sheathing of love. It is a pity to make them join too soon.

Then you think that one can keep a hopeless love in one's heart for so long as that?...And that life can breathe upon it every day, without extinguishing it?

The sole art that suits me is that which, rising from unrest, tends toward serenity.

It is only through restraint that man can manage not to suppress himself.

The true return to nature is the definitive return to the elements-death.