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!

What we ask of him is, that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves... He must have the passion of a lover.

Hardly any one is able to see what is before him, just as it is in itself. He comes expecting one thing, he finds another thing, he sees through the veil of his preconception, he criticizes before he has apprehended, he condemns without allowing his instinct the chance of asserting itself.

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.

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.

A place has almost the shyness of a person, with strangers; and its secret is not to be surprised by a too direct interrogation.