A silent mouth is sweet to hear.

Who among us has not dreamt, in moments of ambition, of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical without rhythm and rhyme, supple and staccato enough to adapt to the lyrical stirrings of the soul, the undulations of dreams, and sudden leaps of consciousness.

Life has but one true charm: the charm of the game. But what if we’re indifferent to whether we win or lose?

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

True Civilization does not lie in gas, nor in steam, nor in turn-tables. It lies in the reduction of the traces of original sin.

There is no more steely barb than that of the Infinite.

Soon we will plunge ourselves into cold shadows, and all of summer's stunning afternoons will be gone. I already hear the dead thuds of logs below falling on the cobblestones and the lawn.