Sentences must stir in a book like leaves in a forest, each distinct from each despite their resemblance.

Tout ce qu'on invente est vrai, soi-en sure. La poesie est une chose aussi precise que la geometrie.

I had, as I told you, a great passion while still almost a child. When it was over, I divided myself in two, placing on one side the soul I kept for Art, and on the other, my body, which would have to fend for itself.

Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.

You need a high degree of corruption or a very big heart to love absolutely everything

I detest my fellow-beings and do not feel that I am their fellow at all

The future is the worst thing about the present.