A study of the Great Malady; horror of home.

Nature is a temple, where the living Columns sometimes breathe confusing speech; Man walks within these groves of symbols, each Of which regards him as a kindred thing.

Drink wine, drink poetry, drink virtue.

An artist is only an artist on condition that he neglects no aspect of his dual nature. This dualism is the power of being oneself and someone else at one and the same time.

What is art? Prostitution.

The cannon thunders... limbs fly in all directions... one can hear the groans of victims and the howling of those performing the sacrifice... it's Humanity in search of happiness.

The taste for pleasure attaches us to the present. The concern with our salvation leaves us hanging on the future.