The appalling thing is the degree of charity women are capable of. You see it all the time... love lavished on absolute fools. Love's a charity ward, you know.

Of women, the most we can say, not being Frenchmen, is that they are burrowing animals.

To write a poem is like trying to catch a lizard without its tail falling off.

All culture corrupts, but French culture corrupts absolutely.

I am quite alone. I am neither happy nor unhappy; I lie suspended like a hair or a feather in the cloudy mixtures of memory.

Sorrow is implicit in love as gravitation is implicit in mass.

Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me, and then show me the place where he was hanged.