A sick thought can devour the body's flesh more than fever or consumption.

To avoid each other, their eyes had developed an amazing mobility with all the cunning of enemies fearful of meeting each other head on.

The essence of life is the smile of round female bottoms, under the shadow of cosmic boredom.

Whatever you want to say, there is only one word to express it, only one verb to give it movement, only one adjective to qualify it.

She was the temptress who had ensnared the first man, and who still continued her work at damnation; she was the being who is feeble, dangerous, mysteriously troubling. And even more than her body of perdition, he hated her loving soul.

We live always under the weight of the old and odious customs... of our barbarous ancestors.

War! When I but think of this word, I feel bewildered, as though they were speaking to me of sorcery, of the Inquisition, of a distant, finished, abominable, monstrous, unnatural thing. When they speak to us of cannibals, we smile proudly, as we proclaim our superiority to these savages. Who are the real savages? Those who struggle in order to eat those whom they vanquish, or those who struggle merely to kill?