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!

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.

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

Night, a more perfect day.

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.

It is in their eyes that their magic resides.

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