Sin ought to be something exquisite, my dear boy.

Let us eat, drink and satisfy our coarse appetites, but let us keep our souls sacred and apart.

What will be the death of me are buillabaisses, food spiced with pimiento, shellfish, and a load of exquisite rubbish which I eat in disproportionate quantities.

Inability, human incapacity, is the only boundary to an art.

They talked so, with secret hearts, without needing words, talking of other things... They could have suddenly continued their confessions aloud, without ceasing to understand each other.

She might have liked to try to strangle him with those slender fingers of hers, but she wanted to make a job of it and this great patience with which she waited for her claws to grow was in itself a form of enjoyment.

The thought is a deed. Of all deeds she fertilizes the world most.