The smell of opium is the least stupid smell in the world.
We are in a period of such individualism that one no longer speaks of disciples; one speaks of thieves.
The artist is a kind of prison from which the works of art escape.
He has the manner of a giant with the look of a child, a lazy activeness, a mad wisdom, a solitude encompassing the world.
It was the East that should have sent us missionaries.
Alas! I do not believe that inspiration falls from heaven. think it rather the result of a profound indolence.