One sometimes weeps over one's illusions with as much bitterness as over a death.

Our memory is a more perfect world than the universe: it gives back life to those who no longer exist.

Since governments take the right of death over their people, it is not astonishing if the people should sometimes take the right of death over governments.

...A strange art – music – the most poetic and precise of all the arts, vague as a dream and precise as algebra.

To contest an author's right to create a poetic or realistic work is to want to force him to change his temperament, challenge his originality, refuse to allow him to use the eye and the intelligence nature has given him.

Those men, those of former times, had soul and eyes that in no way resemble ours, and in their veins, along with their blood, flowed something that has disappeared: love and admiration for the Beautiful.

The only certainty is death.