She was as sated with him as he was tired of her. Emma had rediscovered in adultery all the banality of marriage.

Life must be a constant education; one must learn everything, from speaking to dying.

The writer must wade into life as into the sea, but only up to the navel.

Success is a consequence and must not be a goal. I've never sought it (though I desire it) and seek it less and less.

I don't believe that happiness is possible, but I think tranquility is.

Everything is there: the love of Art.

I took Eugene Sue's Arthur from the reading-room. It's indescribable, enough to make you vomit. You have to read this to realize the pitifulness of money, success, and the public. Literature has become consumptive. It spits and slobbers, covers its blisters with salve and sticking-plaster, and has grown bald from too much hair-slicking. It would take Christ of art to cure this leper.