Acting is happy agony.

If you die, I will lie down beside you and I will stay there until the end, without eating or drinking, you will rot in my arms and I will love you as carcass: for you love nothing if you do not love everything.

For the artist, the color, the bouquet, the tinkling of the spoon on the saucer, are things in the highest degree. He stops at the quality of the sound or the form. He returns to it constantly and is enchanted with it.

Ah! yes, I know: those who see me rarely trust my word: I must look too intelligent to keep it.

Existence is an imperfection.

I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity.

It is enough that one man hate another for hate to gain, little by little, all mankind.