Like the bee its sting, the promiscuous leave behind them in each encounter something of themselves by which they are made to suffer.

In youth the life of reason is not in itself sufficient; afterwards the life of emotion, except for short periods, becomes unbearable.

Imagination is nostalgia for the past, the absent it is the liquid solution in which art develops the snapshot of reality.

The dread of loneliness is greater than the fear of bondage, so we get married.

The only happy talkers are dandies who extract pleasure from the very perishability of their material and who would not be able to tolerate the isolation of all other forms of composition; for most good talkers, when they have run down, are miserable; they know that they have betrayed themselves, that they have taken material which should have a life of its own, to dispense it in noises upon the air.

Everyone has the right to express an opinion. No one has the right to be listened to.

Today the function of the artist is to bring imagination to science and science to imagination, where they meet, in the myth.