Every poem is a coat of arms. It must be deciphered. How much blood, how many tears in exchange for these axes, these muzzles, these unicorns, these torches, these towers, these martlets, these seedlings of stars and these fields of blue!

Victor Hugo was a madman who thought he was Victor Hugo

Do as the beautiful woman: see to your figure and your petticoats. Though, of course, I am not speaking literally.

Do not take up cause against the inaccuracies printed about you. They are your protection.

Elegance ceases to exist when it is noticed.

All good music resembles something. Good music stirs by its mysterious resemblance to the objects and feelings which motivated it.

I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.