She wore far too much rouge last night and not quite enough clothes. That is always a sign of despair in a woman.

Pleasures may turn a heart to stone, riches may make it callous, but sorrows cannot break it. Hearts live by being wounded.

Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.

Whenever cannibals are on the brink of starvation, Heaven, in its infinite mercy, sends them a fat missionary.

Every woman becomes their mother. That's their tragedy. And no man becomes his. That's his tragedy.

I have nothing to declare but my genius, and this four-kilo bag of cocaine.

A man who does not think for himself does not think at all. It is grossly selfish to require of one's neighbour that he should think in the same way, and hold the same opinions. Why should he? If he can think, he will probably think differently. If he cannot think, it is monstrous to require thought of any kind from him.