Convictions are prisons.

In our own presence, we all pretend to be simpler than we are: thus we take a break from our fellow human beings.

Nobody is more inferior than those who insist on being equal.

Speaking of Georges Bizet: His music has the tang of sunny climates, their bracing air, their clearness. It voices a sensibility hitherto unknown to us.

Poets and writers who are in love with the superlative all want to do more than they can.

The surest sign of the estrangement of the opinions of two persons is when they both say something ironical to each other and neither of them feels the irony.

I am one thing, my writings are another.