I am unable to understand how a man of honor could take a newspaper in his hands without a shudder of disgust.

Anybody, providing he knows how to be amusing, has the right to talk about himself.

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.

For each letter received from a creditor, write fifty lines on an extraterrestrial subject and you will be saved.

To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.

Strangeness is the indispensable condiment of all beauty.

My love, do you recall the object which we saw, That fair, sweet, summer morn! At a turn in the path a foul carcass On a gravel strewn bed, Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman, Burning and dripping with poisons, Displayed in a shameless, nonchalant way Its belly, swollen with gases.