A touch of madness is, I think, almost always necessary for constructing a destiny.

I believe that friendship, like love, of which it is a particular kind, requires nearly as much art as a successful choreography.

Ancient and oriental civilizations were more sensitive than we are to the cycles of things; to the succession of generations, both divine and human; and to change within stasis. Western man is virtually alone in wanting to make his God into a fortress and personal immortality into a bulwark against time.

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

Cruelty is the luxury of those who have nothing to do, like drugs or racing stables.

Passion such as hers is all consent, asking little in return. I had merely to enter a room where she was to see her face take on that peaceful expression of one who is resting in bed. If I touched her, I had the impression that all the blood in her veins was turning to honey.

He had reached that moment in life, different for each one of us, when a man abandonds himself to his demon or to his genius, following a mysterious law which bids him either to destroy or outdo himself.