Vaguely conscious of that great suspense in which we live, we find our escape from its sterile, annihilating reality in many dreams, in religion, passion, art.

And I would have, now love is over, An end to all, an end: I cannot, having been your lover Stoop to become your friend!

The making of one's life into art is, after all, the first duty and privilege of every man.

I had my dreams of Venice, but nothing that I had dreamed was as impossible as what I found.

Art begins when a man wishes to immortalize the most vivid moment he has ever lived.

There is not a dream which may not come true, if we have the energy which makes, or chooses, our own fate.... It is only the dreams of those light sleepers who dream faintly that do not come true.

Night, a more perfect day.