It is regrettable that, among the Rights of Man, the right of contradicting oneself has been forgotten.

A work of art should be like a well-planned crime.

There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for.

I watch the springs, the summers, the autumns; And when comes the winter snow monotonous, I shut all the doors and shutters To build in the night my fairy palace.

The idea which man forms of beauty imprints itself throughout his attire, rumples or stiffens his garments, rounds off or aligns his gestures, and, finally, even subtly penetrates the features of his face.

You walk on corpses, beauty, undismayed.

Everything for me becomes allegory