Emma was no asleep, she was pretending to be asleep; and, while he was dozing off at her side, she lay awake, dreaming other dreams.

The morality of art is in its very beauty.

The idea of bringing someone into the world fills me with horror. I would curse myself if I were a father. A son of mine! Oh no, no, no! May my entire flesh perish and may I transmit to no one the aggravations and the disgrace of existence.

The heart, like the stomach, wants a varied diet.

The artist must be in his work as God is in creation, invisible and all-powerful; one must sense him everywhere but never see him.

Be orderly and disciplined in daily life, like a good bourgeois, so that I might be wild and violent in my art.

God is only a word dreamed up to explain the world