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.

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?

Words dazzle and deceive because they are mimed by the face. But black words on a white page are the soul laid bare.

Of all the passions, the only one that seems respectable to me is the passion for food

Broad daylight does not encourage the apprehension of horror.

Champagne... the wine of kings, the king of wines