Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.

As humanity perfects itself, man becomes degraded. When everything is reduced to the mere counter-balancing of economic interests, what room will there be for virtue? When Nature has been so subjugated that she has lost all her original forms, where will that leave the plastic arts? And so on. In the mean time, things are going to get very murky.

I am finding it very hard to get my novel started. I suffer from stylistic abscesses; and sentences keep itching without coming to a head.

The faster the word sticks to the thought, the more beautiful is the effect.

It seems to me... that I have always lived! I possess memories that go back to the Pharoahs. I see myself very clearly at different ages of history, practicing different professions... My present personality is the result of my lost [past] personalities.

Here is true immorality: ignorance and stupidity; the devil is nothing but this. His name is Legion.

One must laugh and weep, love, work, enjoy and suffer, in short vibrate as much as possible in all his being.