A frenzied passion for art is a canker that devours everything else.

Where ever I am not is the place where I am myself.

I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on, The windows and the stars illumined, one by one, The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily, And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass; And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass, I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight, And build me stately palaces by candlelight.

Two fundamental literary qualities: supernaturalism and irony.

Delacroix was passionately in love with passion, but coldly determined to express passion as clearly as possible.

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

What strange phenomena we find in a great city, all we need do is stroll about with our eyes open. Life swarms with innocent monsters.