What am I? Nothing. What would I be? Everything.
Life, that is Paris! Paris, that is life!
Soul is as necessary in a painting as body.
When I die my death will be caused by indignation at the stupidity of human nature.
I long to see everything, to know everything, to learn everything!.
To live, to have so much ambition, to suffer, to cry, to fight and, at the end, forgetfulness ... as if I had never existed.