Time engraves our faces with all the tears we have not shed.

I judge people's charm by the ease with which I express myself in their presence.

We know all their gods; they ignore ours. What they call our sins are our gods, and what they call their gods, we name otherwise.

Silence too can be indiscreet.

That parasite: the past.

Paris has always seemed to me to be the only city in which one can live as one sees fit.

With renunciation life begins.