An artist is only an ordinary man with a greater potentiality.

The only justice is to follow the sincere intuition of the soul, angry or gentle. Anger is just, and pity is just, but judgement is never just.

I prefer unlucky things. Luck is vulgar. Who wants what luck would bring? I don't.

Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets, and to drag in the idea of a point is to ruin everything. Live and let live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve, which flows on, pointless.

And every true artist is the salvation of every other. But only artists produce for each other the world that is fit to live in.

What's that as flies without wings, your ladyship? Time! Time!

When love turns into dust, money becomes the substitution.