The unhappy are egotistical, base, unjust, cruel, and even less capable of understanding one another than are idiots. Unhappinessdoes not unite people, but separates them.

There is nothing more awful, insulting, and depressing than banality.

In descriptions of nature one must seize on small details, grouping them so that when the reader closes his eyes he gets a picture.

The thirst for powerful sensations takes the upper hand both over fear and over compassion for the grief of others.

And it is the way with us that you may express disapproval of the sun or the moon, or anything you like, but God preserve you from touching the Liberals! Heaven forbid!

But at the same time, in reality, what a difference there is between the world today, and what it used to be! And with the passage of more time, some two or three hundred years, say, people will look back at our own times with horror, or with sneering laughter, because all of our present day life will appear so clumsy, and burdensome, extraordinarily inept and strange. Yes, certainly, what a life it will be then, what a life!

The role of the artist is to ask questions, not answer them.