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

I should like the fields tinged with red, the rivers yellow and the trees painted blue. Nature has no imagination.

It would perhaps be nice to be alternately the victim and the executioner.

There are some temptations which are so strong that they must be virtues.

The son will run away from the family not at eighteen but at twelve, emancipated by his gluttonous precocity; he will fly not to seek heroic adventures, not to deliver a beautiful prisoner from a tower, not to immortalize a garret with sublime thoughts, but to found a business, to enrich himself and to compete with his infamous papa.

The life of our city is rich in poetic and marvelous subjects. We are enveloped and steeped as though in an atmosphere of the marvelous; but we do not notice it.

I throw fresh seeds out. Who knows what survives?