It all seemed a hollow sham now - that strict code, that conscientious virtue that condemned her to the sterile joys of pious women! No, no, she'd had enough of that; she wanted to live!

When lovers kiss on the cheeks, it is because they are searching, feeling for one another's lips. Lovers are made by a kiss.

It is not I who am strong, it is reason, it is truth.

When truth is buried, it grows. It chokes. It gathers such an explosive force that on the day it bursts out, it blows up everything with it.

The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.

The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one's toes on the gravestones.

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