Vocations which we wanted to pursue, but didn't, bleed, like colors, on the whole of our existence.
Envy lurks at the bottom of the human heart like a viper in its hole.
Love is a game in which one always cheats.
The press is like a woman: sublime when it lies, it will not let go until it has forced you to believe it. The public, like a foolish husband, always succumbs.
A jealous husband doesnt doubt his wife, but himself.
For the journalist, anything probable is gospel truth.