How little remains of the man I once was, save the memory of him! But remembering is only a new form of suffering.

To be away from home and yet to feel oneself everywhere at home; to see the world, to be at the centre of the world, and yet to remain hidden from the world—impartial natures which the tongue can but clumsily define. The spectator is a prince who everywhere rejoices in his incognito.

A friend of mine, the most innocuous dreamer who ever lived, once set a forest on fire to see, as he said, if it would catch as easily as people said. The first ten times the experiment was a failure; but on the eleventh it succeeded all too well.

In my mind it strolls, as well as in my apartment. A cat, strong, sweet and delightful.

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters...But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk.

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

There exist only three beings worthy of respect: the priest, the soldier, the poet. To know, to kill, to create.