The artist is today and has been for many years, despite his absence of merit, simply a spoiled child. So many honors, so much money bestowed on men without souls and without education.

Music fathoms the sky.

In this horror of solitude, this need to lose his ego in exterior flesh, which man calls grandly the need for love.

Being a useful man has always seemed to me to be something truly hideous.

When a singer puts his hand on his heart, it means usually, I will always love you!

The priest is an immense being because he makes the crowd believe astonishing things.

Two fundamental literary qualities: supernaturalism and irony.