How frightening it is to have reached the height of human accomplishment in art that must forever borrow from life's abundance.

Love wants to be confirmed with concrete symbols, but recklessness loves instability.

The likeness of the world? A shadow! And world's glory? A dream!

No spoon has yet destroyed a mouth, but the knife of war cuts portions that are hard to swallow. Perhaps the big mouths of the privileged are able to cope with them, but they dull the teeth of the little people and ruin their stomachs.

A cure by regression is homeopathic, like healing the damage done by ministers and ignorance with stupidity and Jesuits.

Prose and poetry are as different as food and drink.

Gold is the gift of vanity and common pride, but flowers are the gift of love and friendship.