Morals are a matter of private agreement; decency is of public concern.

I have come to think that great men are characterized precisely by the extreme position which they take, and that their heroism consists in holding to that extremity throughout their lives.

The landscape of my days appears to be composed, like mountainous regions, of varied materials heaped up pell-mell. There I see my nature, itself composite, made up of equal parts of instinct and training. Here and there protrude the granite peaks of the inevitable, but all about is rubble from the landslips of chance.

We say: mad with joy. We should say: wise with grief.

It is not difficult to nourish admirable thoughts when the stars are present.

Writing is a perpetual choice between a thousand expressions, none of which satisfies me, none of which, above all, satisfies me without the others. Yet I ought to know that only music permits a succession of chords.

This city belongs to ghosts, to murderers, to sleepwalkers. Where are you, in what bed, in what dream?