In the kitchens of love, after all, vice is like the pepper in a good sauce; it brings out the flavor, it’s indispensable.

This instinctive repulsion which tradespeople inspire in men of sensitive feeling is one of the very rare consolations for being so impoverished which are given to those of us who don’t sell anything to anybody.

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

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

I piss on you all from a considerable height.

There's no tyrant like a brain.

Reason died in 1914, November 1914 ... after that everybody began to rave.