The history of thought may be summed up in these words: it is absurd by what it seeks and great by what it finds.

The only truths which are universal are those gross enough to be thought so.

A bad poem is one that vanishes into meaning.

One should be light like a bird, and not like a feather.

Order always weighs on the individual. Disorder makes him wish for the police or for death. These are two extreme circumstances in which human nature is not at ease.

Thought must be hidden in the verse like nutritional virtue in a fruit.

Love is being stupid together.