A Dandy does nothing.

To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.

Poetry has no goal other than itself; it can have no other, and no poem will be so great, so noble, so truly worthy of the name of poem, than one written uniquely for the pleasure of writing a poem.

The devil's finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist.

If photography is allowed to supplement art in some of its functions, it will soon have supplanted or corrupted it altogether, thanks to the stupidity of the multitude which is its natural ally.

Life has but one true charm: the charm of the game. But what if we’re indifferent to whether we win or lose?

In this horror of solitude, this need to lose his ego in exterior flesh, which man calls grandly the need for love.