Politics is the diversion of trivial men who, when they succeed at it, become important in the eyes of more trivial men.

There is something distinguished about even his failures; they sink not trivially, but with a certain air of majesty, like a great ship, its flags flying, full of holes.

All one has to do to gather a large crowd in New York is to stand on the curb a few minutes and gaze intently at the sky.

I have yet to find a man worth his salt in any direction who did not think of himself first and foremost.

Common sense, in so far as it exists, is all for the bourgeoisie. Nonsense is the privilege of the aristocracy. The worries of the world are for the common people.

A poet, any real poet, is simply an alchemist who transmutes his cynicism regarding human beings into an optimism regarding the moon, the stars, the heavens, and the flowers, to say nothing of Spring, love, and dogs.

I drink so the others become interesting.