And, drunk with my own madness, I shouted at him furiously, "Make life beautiful! Make life beautiful!

In putting off what one has to do, one runs the risk of never being able to do it.

What is art? Prostitution.

Go then, a starveling girl With no perfume or pearls, Only your nudity O my beauty!

What can an eternity of damnation matter to someone who has felt, if only for a second, the infinity of delight?

You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it-it's the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk. But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

To be just, that is to say, to justify its existence, criticism should be partial, passionate and political, that is to say, written from an exclusive point of view, but a point of view that opens up the widest horizons.