A reformer knows neither how to do nor to undo.
The novel is born of disillusionment; the poem, of despair.
There are those who dance to the rhythm that is played to them, those who only dance to their own rhythm, and those who don't dance at all.
When there is nothing to fear is the time to begin fearing everything.
I fear only that which I love, says man, according to Montaigne. Woman replies: I love only that which I fear.
Those who are scandalized by a naked body--thinks the Devil--are easy prey: they are already doomed.