The man who is unable to people his solitude is equally unable to be alone in a bustling crowd. The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself or some one else, as he chooses. [...] The solitary and thoughtful stroller finds a singular intoxication in this universal communion. [...] What men call love is a very small, restricted, feeble thing compared with this ineffable orgy, this divine prostitution of the soul giving itself entire...to the unexpected as it comes along, the stranger as he passes.

Those men get along best with women who can get along best without them.

The life of our city is rich in poetic and marvelous subjects. We are enveloped and steeped as though in an atmosphere of the marvelous; but we do not notice it.

The man who says his evening prayer is a captain posting his sentinels. He can sleep.

A Dandy does nothing.

For me, Romanticism is the most recent and the most current expression of beauty.

For each letter received from a creditor, write fifty lines on an extraterrestrial subject and you will be saved.