Pride in a man is confused with dignity; in a woman, with self-love.
Sensuality without love is a sin; love without sensuality is worse than a sin.
A German immersed in any civilization different from his own loses a weight equivalent in volume to the amount of intelligence he displaces.
Erik Satie does not say the opposite of Debussy; he says the same thing only the other way round.
The only time a man thinks is when he's alone.
The novel is born of disillusionment; the poem, of despair.