As one knows the poet by his fine music, so one can recognize the liar by his rich rhythmic utterance, and in neither case will the casual inspiration of the moment suffice. Here, as elsewhere, practice must precede perfection.

The only sin is stupidity.

For us there is only one season, the season of sorrow. The very sun and moon seem taken from us.

Art is not to be taught in Academies. It is what one looks at, not what one listens to, that makes the artist. The real schools should be the streets.

Art is rarely intelligible to the criminal classes.

The best people to work for are me, myself and I.

Conformity is the last refuge of the unimaginitive