Sin ought to be something exquisite, my dear boy.
The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one's toes on the gravestones.
The camembert with its venison scent defeats the Marolles and Limbourg dull smells; It spreads its exhalation, smothering the other scents under its surprising breath abundance.
A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.
If people can just love each other a little bit, they can be so happy.
The fate of animals is of greater importance to me than the fear of appearing ridiculous; it is indissolubly connected with the fate of men.