Lean on principles, one day they'll end up giving way.
His style is chaos illumined by flashes of lightning. As a writer he has mastered everything except language.
The man with a clear conscience probably has a poor memory.
the costume of the nineteenth century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colour-element left in modern life.
Pleasure is Nature's test, her sign of approval.
Now, nothing should be able to harm a man except himself. Nothing should be able to rob a man at all. What a man really has, is what is in him. What is outside of him should be a matter of no importance.