I and my public understand each other very well: it does not hear what I say, and I don't say what it wants to hear.

News reports stand up as people, and people wither into editorials. Clichés walk around on two legs while men are having theirs shot off.

It is the style of idealism to console itself for the loss of something old with the ability to gape at something new.

Language is the mother of thought, not its handmaiden.

A fine world in which man reproaches woman with fulfilling his heart's desire!

Sorrento, August. For two weeks now I haven't heard a German word or understood an Italian one. This way one can manage to live with people; everything goes like clockwork and no irksome misunderstanding can arise.

There is no more unfortunate creature under the sun than a fetishist who yearns for a woman's shoe and has to settle for the whole woman.