If one tells the truth, one is sure, sooner or later, to be found out.

Starvation, not sin, is the parent of modern crime.

Tread Lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow.

He had uttered a mad wish that he himself might remain untarnished, and the face on the canvas bear the burden of his passions and his sins; that the painted image might be seared with the lines of suffering and thought, and that he might keep all the delicate bloom and loveliness of his then just conscious boyhood.

Truth in art is the unity of a thing with itself: the outward rendered expressive of the inward: the soul made incarnate: the body instinct with spirit. For this reason there is no truth comparable to sorrow.

The only way to behave to a woman is to make love to her if she is pretty, and to someone else if she is plain.

The past could always be annihilated. Regret, denial, or forgetfulness could do that. But the future was inevitable.