People avenge themselves for the favors done them.

When you stay too long in the same place, things and people go to pot on you, they rot and start stinking for your special benefit.

The more one is hated, I find, the happier one is.

A God who counts minutes and pennies, a desperate sensual God, who grunts like a pig. A pig with golden wings, who falls and falls, always belly side up, ready for caresses, that’s him, our master. Come, kiss me.

My trouble is insomnia. If I had always slept properly, I'd never have written a line.

The rich don't have to kill to eat. They employ people, as they call it. The rich don't do evil themselves. They pay. People do all they can to please them, and everybody's happy.

There's no such thing as intelligent vanity. It's an instinct. And you'll never find a man who is not first and foremost vain.