So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, be endlessly drunk.

To handle a language skillfully is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.

I throw fresh seeds out. Who knows what survives?

Dancing is poetry with arms and legs.

The solitary and thoughtful stroller finds a singular intoxication in this universal communion. The man who loves to lose himself in a crowd enjoys feverish delights that the egoist locked up in himself as in a box, and the slothful man like a mollusk in his shell, will be eternally deprived of. He adopts as his own all the occupations, all the joys and all the sorrows that chance offers.

The insatiable thirst for everything that lies beyond, and that life reveals, is the most living proof of our immortality.

I have cultivated my hysteria with delight and terror. Now I suffer continually from vertigo, and today, 23rd of January, 1862, I have received a singular warning, I have felt the wind of the wing of madness pass over me.