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!

In Paris, everybody wants to be an actor; nobody is content to be a spectator.

To be audacious with tact, you have to know to what point you can go too far.

French people are Italian people in a bad mood.

One must not mistake majority for truth.

We must believe in luck. For how else can we explain the success of those we don't like?

One sits down first; one thinks afterwards.